


Carve Your Pelt & Earn It Back

by sophluorescent



Category: SuperM (Korea Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Gods & Goddesses, Alternate Universe - Shapeshifters, Anxiety, Blood and Injury, Fantasy Violence, Hunters & Hunting, Knives, M/M, Mentions of Death, Mentions of Drowning, Past/Minor Unrequited Love, Polyamory, Skinning but like... its magical and not gorey? IDK how to explain?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-16
Updated: 2021-02-10
Packaged: 2021-03-10 07:00:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 45,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27589208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sophluorescent/pseuds/sophluorescent
Summary: Yukhei's wanted to be Chosen since he was a child painting tiger's stripes up his arms. Taeyong, though, can't think of anything he dreads more.As fate would have it, he'll need to compromise.
Relationships: Byun Baekhyun/Lee Taeyong/Wong Yuk Hei | Lucas
Comments: 9
Kudos: 31
Collections: WIP OLYMPICS: WINTER 2020/21





	1. Twilight

**Author's Note:**

> SuperM catboys?
> 
> This was previously posted (though extremely briefly). It was not complete back then, but now it is. I'm still going through the editing phase with each chapter, but my schedule is to post **Monday / Every Other Week** The next update will be November 30th, and this will continue until all five chapters are posted! After the first chapter, the chapter length is, on average, ~20k each. 
> 
> As always, make sure you check the warnings before you read. Since the work is complete, I've tagged everything I remember at the current moment, but I double check before I post each chapter and will stick in the chapter specific notes whether or not I've added tags! 
> 
> And finally, if you enjoy, please do let me know via a comment or kudos! I love hearing what you think! My twitter and curiouscat will also be linked in the end-notes, if you prefer to give feedback that way!

He pauses just a foot outside his door, mouth gaping open, eyes wide. Shock lingers for a bare moment before it settles deep in the pit of his stomach like _dread_. He’d admittedly forgotten what time of year it was. Which was silly, for the very thing capitalizing on all his time—the New Year’s _Kokhi_ —is part of the seasonal celebration that he so fears.

The _Yokae_ are coming.

He knows it by the bells strung across the street, the flags hung from the balconies, the lanterns erected on their posts. Knows it by the familiar sound of music—a trumpeting sound followed by strings and gongs—thought to draw the Yokae from the heavens down to Khiti Khi’s gates.

“What’s got you looking so freaked?”

Taeyong glances off his front porch step. Yukhei’s sat atop a tethering bar, petting the velvety snout of some merchant’s horse. He’s dressed in quite colorful clothes today—probably in anticipation for when the Yokae come. Yukhei’s been quite vocal about wanting to be chosen.

Taeyong, on the other hand, can’t think of anything worse. “I forgot about the arrival,” he mumbles, stepping overthe middle step and scuffing his sandals on the street. Yukhei hops off the tethering bench and falls into step behind him, his long gait more than enough match for Taeyong’s nervous, hurried one.

“Really?” Yukhei peers at him, eyebrows raised to his hairline. “I don’t see _how_? It’s kind of the talk of the year?” He gestures around them with a disbelieving laugh.

Taeyong purses his lips. “I’ve been so caught up with the performance; it wasn’t even on my mind.”

“ _Kiha~_ the performance is literally _for_ the Yokae,” Yukhei says, incredulity still clinging to his tone. Taeyong honestly doesn’t know what to say, though. He _had_ forgotten it. Got too caught up in the steps of the dance, in the beauty of it, in the tragedy of it. It’s hard to think of anything else when you are doing something that you love, when you are _perfecting_ something that you love.

“I know, I know~” Taeyong dismisses. “Still, it caught me off-guard.” He waits a beat of silence, sees Yukhei open his mouth to tease him again, and so, claps his hands together. “ _Anyways_ , you missed last class. The instructor told me you better hang-tail when you come in. I think if you grovel she won’t be as mad.”

Yukhei pouts. “I only missed it because I was watching the gates.”

Taeyong rolls his eyes. “Look, I know I forgot about the arrival and all but even _I_ know that’s way too early. They’re not gonna be due for another week at _least_.” He shakes his head. “You’re going to have to come up with a better excuse than that.”

“Help me think of one!” Yukhei pleads.

“No way! I am _not_ getting wrapped up in trouble _you_ caused,” Taeyong says. He nudges Yukhei’s shoulder. “Don’t miss the turn,” he mutters, knowing had he not, Yukhei would have walked right past it and made them late. At least _one_ of them is paying attention to the road.

They cross over Third Bridge, a pretty, red covered-bridge upon which numerous vines and flowers bloom. It _too_ has been prepared for the coming arrival, with streamers and glass wind-chimes hung from the ceiling. Taeyong glances at them, simultaneously charmed by the beauty and apprehensive of what they represent.

Kokhi Academy—the Dance Academy—sits on the cliffs of the second level of the mountain. Taeyong can see it now, the pale walls contrasted against the residential district surrounding it. It flies its flag proudly—a dancing crane—tolls its bells loudly.

“I still can’t believe we got in,” Yukhei says, following Taeyong’s gaze. “It’s been three years since.”

“I hope I get to _stay_ ,” Taeyong mumbles. “I want to complete my studies. Maybe I could be like the teacher and choreograph for future celebrations.”

“Or you could join a traveling troupe,” he suggests.

“Maybe.”

They fall back into a comfortable silence. This side of the city is quieter, most people drifting towards city center in order to account for the impending celebration. Taeyong’s almost glad—he much prefers this quiet. It’s calming, distracting him from his apprehension.

And then… it’s shattered by the long trill of a horn.

He freezes even as Yukhei perks up, eyes wide, excitement coloring his features.

“Oh my god!” Yukhei gasps. “They’re here!”

The bells begin to tolls all around the city.

It’s too much, Taeyong swaying in place. “Oh my god,” he gasps, much softer, voice nearly a whisper. What happened to another week? What has the Yokae coming so early? Why _this_ year, when he’s most nervous to attract their sharp, cat-like gazes.

Yukhei grabs his arm and tugs him into motion, dragging him back the way they’d come. Taeyong really _can’t_ refuse, either. It’s more worrisome to _ignore_ the Yokae’s Arrival, for if you’re caught, you might be chosen and left to die in the challenges.

So, he runs alongside Yukhei, though his brain’s ground to a simple halt, worry clouding his senses.

As they reach mid-city, they become victim to the many crowds. Even Yukhei, tall as he is, struggles to see over the sea of people coming from their homes and stores to witness the Arrival. Then, he points to a tree. “Let’s climb it so we can see,” he suggests.

Taeyong only shrugs, “Whatever you say~”

And so, a minute later, he’s straddling a tree branch, nails dug into the bark, feeling queasier than ever. _Why’d he agree to climb a tree?_ God, he’s going to faint.

The feel doubles as he catches sight of the first of the beasts—tigers dressed in collars of thick golden ropes, with teal tassels and paint decorating their striped pelts. Some have coats of white fur, some of black, and still some with the familiar tan and red hues of the earth. As they run through the streets, some shift, pelts peeling back to reveal skin of all different colors and shades, eyes that sparkle inhumanely, hair that ranges from long as to trail on the ground and short as to be bald.

Even in these human skins, they wear pounds of jewelry—earrings hang from their ears, necklaces and collars encircle their necks, bangles clasp all the way up their arms.

The crowd’s voice rises in a wave: _“Yawli, Yokae!”_

Greetings, Yokae!

Taeyong can’t help the wave of sickness that rolls over him. He sways on his perch. Yukhei’s hand settles on his shoulder, warm and grounding, prepared to keep him upright should Taeyong begin to keel over.

One of the Yokae pauses near where they’re perched. It’s pelt is a rich orange—the type that stands out against the blue of the sky and the gray cobble of the streets. It wears pretty teal, feather earrings and its sides are painted with the characters of a poem— _the Dancer in the Music_ —Taeyong reads belatedly. Then, after only a brief hesitation, it steps out of its feline form and takes on the image of a man.

A _pretty_ man, Taeyong notes passingly.

A man whose gaze flits right up to where he sits in the tree.

_Oh, god_.

Taeyong faints, panic lacing through him so sharply, so quickly, that even Yukhei—who’d been similarly entranced by the Yokae’s appearance—can’t catch him as he tumbles out of the tree.

There’s no fairytale moment where he gets _caught._

Rather, he lands quite heavily in the dirt, amongst the crowd. At least he has the presence of mind to cover his head, lest he be stepped on.

Then, the crowd’s parting, a lull falling over everyone. Taeyong cracks open an eye, his heart stuttering painfully fast (like a frightened bird’s wings), and sees a bangled wrist and ringed fingers. He takes it on reflex, knows better than to refuse a Yokae’s help.

“You ought to be more careful, _kisha ki~_ ” The Yokae’s voice is rich, thick like honey, gentle and warm. _Little cat_ , he’d just called Taeyong little cat. And he steamrolls on, before Taeyong can even gather his thoughts. “Keep your feet on the ground,” he advises, grinning boxily. He’s _radiant_ , and… he’s gone.

Just as quickly as he’d helped Taeyong to his feet, he’s continuing his walk through the city streets, obviously preening under the attention of the crowds.

Meanwhile, Taeyong experiences what he might consider a minor crisis.

All he had to do was avoid drawing _attention_.

_Fuck_.

***

“The pouting really isn’t doing you any favors, _lawshé,_ ” Ten comments, making a gesture towards Taeyong’s face. “ _Not_ a good look,” he emphasizes.

Taeyong glowers. “Not pouting,” he argues. “Thinking.”

“Can you at _least_ tell me what happened?” Ten mutters, rolling his eyes. “You’re acting like your life’s over, and it’s not. You’re like twenty.”

“One of the Yokae saw me,” Taeyong groans, dropping his head into his hands forlornly.

Ten snorts, “They see _plenty_ of people. I wouldn’t worry about it—they’ve probably forgotten you already.” Taeyong peers up, mildly offended. Surely he’s not forgettable? “Oh hush,” Ten grumbles, “I’m trying to be _comforting_. What do you _want_ me to say? Your face is probably imprinted in their mind’s eye?”

Taeyong’s stomach rolls with sickness. “God, no,” he mutters sickly, picking up his glass and taking a long sip to clear the taste of bile from his mouth. “But like, it wasn’t a passing interaction. I literally fell out of a tree and—“

He’s interrupted by the shop bell’s ringing and the subsequent hush that befalls the restaurant. Both he and Ten crane their necks to see what the hubbub’s about, only for Taeyong to shrink down in his seat, eyes wide with embarrassment and anxiety.

It’s the Yokae he’d fallen in front of.

He averts his gaze quickly, turning his head toward the wall, lest he be spotted. He remains quiet as the restauranteurs introduce themselves and show the Yokae to the reserved table inside. There’s four of them, Taeyong counts them out of the corner of his eye as they pass by his table to go settle on the patterned carpets and pillows in the private wing of the restaurant.

It’s only once they’ve settled that volume returns to the eatery, everyone having taken their respectful silence and now relaxing back into their conversations. And behind him, Taeyong can hear his Yokae’s warm, honeyed voice.

“Sorry, where were we,” Ten asks, shaking his head as though to resume himself. His gaze remains fixed over Taeyong’s shoulder, on the Yokae men and women. “You fell out of a tree and?”

Taeyong makes a cutting motion across his neck, practically _pleading_ with Ten to shut up with the motion.

But Ten’s eyes only sparkle brightly. “ _Oh_? Is he here?” He says, raising his voice just a note. Taeyong’s eyes widen and he hunches down further, eyes shooting _daggers_ Ten’s way. “Saw you fall from a tree? What a great first impression~” He singsongs loudly.

There’s a lull in the conversation behind them. Taeyong can’t help it—he’s too curious for his own good.

He takes a peek behind him and immediately meets the gaze of the Yokae from earlier.

He squeaks and turns around.

“Ah, _Ki-ki~”_ Comes a singsong, teasing voice. “Don’t hide.”

Taeyong turns back around, though he catches Ten perching his head on his hands and fluttering his lashes as he does so. God, he’s shameless.

“Yes?” Taeyong asks, collecting himself with a deep breath.

“Is this the boy who fell from the tree, Baekhyun?” the woman at the table asks. She’s wearing a white pelt on her back and pretty silver jewelry. Her eyes are feline-sharp.

“Indeed,” Baekhyun purrs, eyes sparkling with mirth. Taeyong could _ascend_ , he’s so embarrassed. “You _know_ , he didn’t even thank me for helping him up.”

“Well, it’s not like you caught me,” Taeyong says on impulse, then slaps a hand over his mouth. He’s _really_ putting his foot in his mouth today, isn’t he? God, _who_ speaks to the Yokae like that. “Sorry- I…” he trails off, searching for something to say. Instead he starts all over. “Sorry, I really should have thanked you. I was just a little shocked.” He pauses, “Uh- thank you.”

He can _feel_ Ten cringing behind him.

Baekhyun’s grin only widens, “You’re welcome!” He quips.

“Oh, you two need to give him a break. He’s _clearly_ nervous,” chides another of the Yokae, his mouth curly-lipped and cat-like. He waves Taeyong off, a dismissal, a permission to return to his own dinner.

Taeyong does so gratefully, fixing Ten with a pleading sort of glare. “Can we leave? Are you done?”

Ten purses his lips, then sighs long-sufferingly. “I _guess_ , but I don’t see why. They’re just teasing a bit. I wouldn’t be—“

“Please?”

Ten nods and stands up, grabbing his coin purse and walking up to the counter to pay. Taeyong picks up their plates, stacking them all as neatly as he can, then walks them to the back of the restaurant, where the auntie cleaning the dishes smiles and takes them from him.

He only breathes freely once he’s walking out the doors, though, falling into step alongside Ten. “Gosh, I didn’t expect to see him there. Ten this is _horrible_ , what if I get chosen?”

“Bar the fact that getting chosen is an _honor_ , and a rare one at that, you can refuse a Yokae. It’s just bad luck,” Ten tells him. “But Taeyong, I really think you’re getting too worked up. Especially since you’d _excel_ at the tournament. The Kokhi Academy was literally built under the premise that it prepared people for a chance at the Challenge. And you’re one of their best students, right now.”

“You are too,” Taeyong says. “Are you worried about being chosen?”

“I’d _like_ to get chosen, Tae. Like I said, it’s an honor. Plus, I think I’d look good with a silver pelt.”

“Should I remind you? You’ve got to win a tournament widely famed for being _impossible_ to survive in order to become Yokae.”

“Semantics~” Ten waves. “Is that why you’re worried?”

“I think that’s a _valid_ reason to be worried,” Taeyong frowns.

Ten hums. “Well, if you don’t want to be chosen you may as well just hole up at the Academy for a while. You still have the performance, but by then most of the Yokae who were planning to choose a champion would have already, don’t you think?”

Taeyong nods, mood lightening significantly with the thought. “You’re right. I need to practice anyways, so it’s a win-win.”

Ten grins, “I am _full_ of great ideas!” He preens and Taeyong laughs, the anxiety of the day _almost_ lifting from his shoulders.

***

Indeed, there’s a certain peace that comes with the Kokhi Academy.

The building’s construction was originally funded by a pair of Yokae. As the legend would have it, they had both danced on the cliff sides where the academy now stands. Their dancing, especially in the harsh conditions, prepared them for the tournament. Having earned their pelts, they came back to offer advice to the children of Khiti Khi—learn to dance, and you learn the Way of the Yokae. And, knowing it was imperative that the children could dance in a devoted academy, both of the Yokae gave up their pelts so that they could be sold and the academy be built.

Ever since, the Kokhi Academy has been serene. It has a gentle song that seems to float on the breeze, a sweet warmth not unlike the sunlight—even though it is hidden in the shadow of the mountain.

And all of this helps Taeyong to focus as he runs through his stretches, balances his mind, eases his limbs. When he’s done, muscles loosened, focus resumed, he calls out to his teacher. “ _Hindoté_ , can you run me through the Second Act?”

Taemin is a curious case. Had been chosen to become Yokae, and yet, when he won the tournament, he refused to take on a pelt. His excuse—he had to be there to teach the others the _kokhi_ art, and his request had been granted. “You can call me by my name~” he teases, almost singsong, though tired. He’s worn down from work. This performance is their largest of the year. It is the turning point of a generation, a true welcome into adulthood.

And, with hope, the Yokae will choose some of their people to train and compete—though some years go by in which they choose none.

“Focus, Taeyong,” Taemin reminds, urging Taeyong’s thoughts back to the present. “Let’s take it from the Leap.” He positions himself in front of one of the polished mirrors, taking on the beginning position. Taeyong mirrors him, and so, they begin to dance.

The Leap is the first dance of the Second Act. The point at which the protagonists of their performance make their great leap into the unknown—and fall. It’s the despair before the revival, the time at which they’ve given up and must wait to be rejuvenated.

They perform this dance for the Yokae, in three acts, all of which pertain to the _first_ Yokae and her climb to the heavens. It follows her through her original conflict—poverty and illness and crime—and takes her all the way to the top of the Mount, at which point Shehekà Hindae—the Silver Pantheon—throw her back to the bottom. So, she tries again, this time donning a lion’s pelt. When she manages her way to the top _again,_ she is not thrown back down, but the Gods _do_ question how a mere lion managed to find its way to their gates.

So, she is given challenges, and by the end of it, she has earned a more royal pelt—that with stripes and patterns—as a gift from the Gods. But she also reveals that she is human.

The Yokae were first a punishment. She was allowed to keep her human legs, but also, given that of an animal’s. The Gods reviled her, punished her to walk up and down the mountain for an eternity bringing them the prayers and platitudes of the people at the base of the Mount.

Somewhere in time, the Gods apologized, and the position of the Yokae became one of honor and celebration.

Taeyong’s dance is not so complicated as to explore that, though.

“You’re distracted, Taeyong,” Taemin urges. They never falter in their movements, both of the gliding and spinning across the floor with deft skill. “This isn’t like you~”

“A lot on my mind,” Taeyong mutters, but he continues to dance, dropping the topic.

It’s not until later that Taemin pries. “Perhaps, it’d be good to talk through whatever’s got you so unfocused?” He suggests, though his tone is less a suggestion and more of a command—a soft one, but a command nonetheless.

Taeyong hums, taking a sip of the tea they’d brewed. It warms his chest, calms him down. The sun’s beginning to set outside anyways, and he probably should get his fears off his chest before he tries to head home and go to bed. He’d rather not spend the night sleepless.

“I don’t want to be chosen,” Taeyong says honestly. “I’m afraid of the Tournament and I’m afraid of the Yokae.”

“Why so?”

“Well, all of the stories you hear are about the people who were chosen and survived. We don’t know what happens to the people that don’t? Not to mention we don’t even know what the tournament is?” Taeyong shrugs his shoulders. “I know the Kokhi Academy is meant to prepare us for the offchance that we are chosen, but I come to learn here because I love to dance, not because I want to go to battle for the gods.”

Taemin hums. “It won’t mean much to you, I imagine, but… the Yokae aren’t what this city likes to paint them to be. They’re human just like you and I. Only, they’ve seen a little more.” He rests his hand on one of the windowsills. “And the tournament isn’t quite what you think it is _either_. It’s not a test of—“

“Taeminnie, you’re not allowed to talk about the tournament!”

Both Taeyong and he look up. In the entry-hall, there’s a tall, ribbony man with deep tan skin and a tiger pelt laid atop his shoulders. Taeyong recognizes him as one of the Yokae that had been at the restaurant—though he’d never caught the man’s name.

Taeyong shrinks back, but the stranger’s gaze doesn’t ever fall to him. It remains fixed on Taemin—affectionate and friendly.

“Jongin~” Taemin grins. “I wasn’t going to reveal anything. Was only going to soothe his mind.” He gestures to Taeyong.

Finally, Jongin’s gaze flicks to Taeyong’s, his smile softening pleasantly. Jongin bows, ever so slightly—grinning even wider at Taeyong fumbling to return the motion. “You’re the _kiha_ Baekhyun met earlier,” he muses. “Funny how we keep running into one another.”

“Ha- yeah, funny,” Taeyong wheezes.

Jongin snorts. “Am I interrupting practice or?”

Taeyong shakes his head. “I actually just finished! Have to go home and help cook dinner!” He doesn’t pause, “ _Hindoté,_ thank you for helping me tonight; I’ll see you tomorrow.” He excuses himself immediately, ignoring the laughter that follows his departure, and escapes out into the gentle breeze outside.

In the courtyard, there’s a few other Yokae lounging about in their pelts rather than their human skins. Taeyong doesn’t let his gaze linger on them, though he thinks he might recognize one pair of eyes, and hurries out of the gardens, making his way down the stairs of the cliff-face back down to the city streets below.

And when he gets home, he can’t help but feel tired, worn out by the day. Still, he helps to cook dinner and set the table, and after it all, he crawls into his bed and sleeps like the dead.

***

He doesn’t run into any of the Yokae for several more days, which, in Taeyong’s opinion, is as good as it gets. Unfortunately, his luck doesn’t last. Rather, it runs out on the fifth day since the arrival, while Taeyong, Ten, and Yukhei are all on their way to the river to bathe.

Because, just as they crest the gentle rise of a hill and look down to the water, they catch sight of several Yokae amongst Khiti Khi’s citizens. Some are playing ball with the teens on the riverbank, others are sunning—either in their pelts or in their human skin—and still others are frolicking in the water.

Taeyong freezes, but Yukhei nudges him along. “Don’t be shy~” He singsongs, urging Taeyong down the cobble path. “It’s like any other day.”

“It’s _not_ ,” Taeyong argues, but he continues down the path anyway; unable to keep his gaze from roving over the Yokae. He envies them sometimes—the languid grace, the power hiding beneath their skin, the fluidity of their movements. In many ways, the Yokae are dancers too, though their dance is the Hunt, their stage the Battlefield.

He sets his towel down on one of the rocks near the river’s edge. Ten folds his neatly doing the same, then begins slipping his sandals from his feet, undoing the cord of his robes, and taking out his hair tie. Yukhei tosses his towel and robe (they fall in the dirt), kicks off his sandals, and then trudges into the water with little hesitation.

Taeyong sighs as he picks the clump of fabric up and sets it out neatly, knowing that Yukhei will thank him for it once they’ve finished bathing and have to walk back home.

Then, he follows them into the water, letting the cool water tug at his legs. And for the brief moment he’s unfocused, in his own world, he hears the voices of those around them—the sharp, slangy city accents, but also, the slower drawl of the Yokae’s.

One shout in particular has Taeyong’s eyebrows rising, a blush flushing his cheeks.

_“Phawya!”_ Someone curses, though their tone is one of laughter.

Taeyong hears hands slapping the water and then a cold wave of it splashes across his back and head. Someone surfaces near him, points behind him and shouts, quite clearly, “You missed!” And then glances at Taeyong, already apologizing.

Taeyong waves him off with a smile—wouldn’t take the time to show his frustration, not with the Yokae—and takes a quick glance to see who splashed him. Only to freeze, as is becoming his typical panic response.

_‘Cause it’s Baekhyun._ Of the perhaps _twenty_ Yokae that have come to the city, somehow Taeyong seems to run into him the most.

“Yeah, sorry,” Baekhyun echoes his friend. “Didn’t expect Jongdae to dive.” Then he cocks his head, eyes narrowing.

Taeyong smiles with thin-lips, already knowing Baekhyun’s next question.

“Are you—“

“Yes,” Taeyong says, sighing.

Baekhyun wades closer, his caramel hair pushed back from his forehead, his smile almost radiant in the sunlight. “I haven’t seen you around all that much—at least, since the day we arrived?” He says. “Have you been avoiding me?”

Ten looks like he’s about to answer _for_ Taeyong, and well, Taeyong can’t let that happen. “Yeah,” he says honestly, crossing his arms. “I’m not really one for the… uh… celebrations?” He tries to keep his tone light, hoping he won’t offend Baekhyun. Again, an offended Yokae is one who sentences you to a world of challenge.

“Really?” Baekhyun wonders. “What’s there not to like? There’s food, dances, music—“ he lists them out on his fingers, “—people to meet, things to see… I imagine it’d be the best time of year, no?” He keeps a friendly distance between himself and Taeyong, though, with Ten and Yukhei wading away (as well as Baekhyun’s friend turning to chat with someone else), Taeyong’s still losing valuable buffers.

“Well, it is _fun_ , but I’ve just been nervous about the choosing,” Taeyong says, doing his best to loosen up a bit. It’s hard though when Baekhyun has so much of a presence. Hard when they _aren’t_ equals, at least by the city’s regard.

Baekhyun’s brows furrow. “Oh? Why so?”

“Well, I’d rather not get dragged into a competition to the death,” Taeyong deadpans, though he tacks on a nervous laugh at the end.

Baekhyun’s expression doesn’t change. “ _Do Sewoyú_ is not a competition to the death,” he mutters, using the traditional name of the tournament. It translates to Nine Trials, though no one knows what the nine trials _are_. “It’s actually not a competition at all—at least against others.”

Taeyong falters, “What do you mean?” He asks.

Baekhyun shakes his head, “Sorry, can’t say. Rules are rules.” But, as though sensing Taeyong’s disappointment and the growing return of his anxieties, he’s quick to add, “But you really shouldn’t be afraid of it. It actually isn’t a competition to the death—where’d you even get that idea?”

“Well, the chosen don’t come back?” Taeyong offers, eyes narrowed.

“Taemin did, you know him, surely?”

“He won his tournament.”

“Do you really win if you do not earn the pelt?”

Taeyong closes his mouth, at a loss. “Whatever, does it really matter what I think of the tournament or not? I don’t think I should have to explain myself when—“

“Well, I was going to choose you,” Baekhyun says, warm eyes searching Taeyong’s.

And Taeyong, well, he’s not sure what to do other than take a shocked step back, his hand flying to his chest. Then, he’s shaking his head, bottom lip trembling. “Why?” He asks, hoping his fear doesn’t translate into his voice, hoping his disappointment, his apprehension, doesn’t offend.

Baekhyun’s expression softens ever so slightly. “I only thought you would make a good candidate for the trials,” he says, voice calm and breezy. “You would suit a pelt.”

“I’m sorry, I just… I don’t want that,” Taeyong says, even though Baekhyun’s words send something flickering within him. “God, I can’t think of anything I’m _more_ afraid of.” He feels trapped, like whether or not he refuses Baekhyun, he’ll still be condemned.

But then, Baekhyun waves him off, drawing up a little straighter. “Then don’t worry about it, _Kisha Ki.”_ There’s that nickname again: “little cat.” Taeyong wants to hate it, but he can’t. It’s too sweet, too gentle for him to dislike it. “I’ll tell the others as well so you don’t need to worry.”

Just like that, a weight’s lifting from Taeyong’s shoulders, his eyes glittering with _joy_. “Really? Thank you,” he breathes. And then, because his parent’s have raised him well _and_ because Taeyong knows no other way to truly express _how_ grateful he is, he says, “Let me treat you to a _lawú_ tonight.” It’s a dinner of sorts, one designed for honored guests or celebrations. Taeyong’s cooked for several since he finds it to be a very… human, very genuine custom. “To show how thankful I am,” he tacks on.

Baekhyun smiles, “You really don’t need to.”

“Please, let me,” Taeyong says. Without the threat of being chosen hanging over his head, Baekhyun suddenly seems so much more human, so much more like _him_. It allows Taeyong to shed his fears like water—sloughing them off and his confidence, his personality shining through. “It’s the least I can do. Besides, you should never turn down a _lawú._ It’s disrespectful.”

Funny he says that, even though he’s rejected one of the Yokae, and that’s almost as disrespectful as it gets.

But Baekhyun’s gaze only glitters with mirth and he nods, “Then, I’ll be there. Not tonight, though—I’ll have to look around and see if anyone else piques my interest. The Chefae were counting on me bringing back a candidate.” He draws away. “Meet me at the river—I’m here each evening.”

Taeyong nods, “I’ll meet you here. Really, thank you again.”

And then, they’re drawing apart, Baekhyun returning to his friends—Jongdae, Jongin, and Chanyeol—as Taeyong hears them called, while Taeyong makes to resume washing.

Ten’s quick to pounce on the space Baekhyun’d left behind, mouth already running a mile a minute—desperate to know what was said between Taeyong and the Yokae. And Taeyong tells him about it (Yukhei too), feeling so light now that he doesn’t need to worry.

***

“Hey, uh, this might be weird to ask, but—“ Yukhei begins, looking uncharacteristically awkward where he stands in the doorway.

Taeyong raises a brow, shrugging his shirt back over his shoulders now that he’s getting ready to go home. It’s been a long day at practice now that he’s been working harder than ever to perfect the year-end performance, and he’s just finished rinsing off in one of the building’s natural springs.

“I heard you were going to prepare a _lawú_ for Baekhyun, and I’m… trying to get chosen. Do you mind if I help out and maybe… uh, participate too?” He finally spits out, looking equal parts embarrassed and anticipatory.

Taeyong smiles, “I was worried you were going to say something _far_ worse. Of course you can help. It’s tonight, though; you prepared?”

Yukhei nods emphatically. “Of course!” He pauses, “What are we cooking?”

Taeyong snorts. “I’ll cook if you clean? I’m going to host him in the garden.”

So, an hour later sees Yukhei taming Taeyong’s family garden—weeding and cleaning off the stones and statues in it—and Taeyong grilling meat for a vegetable and rice dish. His parents and sister are keeping inside for the dinner; it’s not that they wouldn’t join him normally, but a _lawú_ is… formal in a different manner. It is for the host and the invitee. Rarely are there auxiliary guests—family or not.

Which is why Taeyong’s a little nervous for when Baekhyun first arrives, his eyebrow crooked curiously at the sight of Yukhei. “I didn’t know you were cooking for two,” he teases, his tone neither judgmental nor overly pleased—just… interested, trying to figure out what the reason for the break in tradition is.

“I hope you don’t mind?” Taeyong tries.

“Of course not,” Baekhyun soothes, gaze roving over the garden. “This is very beautiful.” He glances at Yukhei’s dirt stained hands, “I imagine you were the one cleaning it up for me?”

Yukhei nods, grinning sunnily. “Yep!”

“Ah, _cute_ ,” Baekhyun coos, reaching over to ruffle his hair. Then, he looks to the mat that’s been set down and takes a seat, neatly folding his hands in his lap. Taeyong notes that he can’t seem to sit still, though, either picking at the threading or looking all around the garden. “You two are so generous.”

Taeyong smiles, “Not as much as you,” he reminds. “This is a ‘thank you’ for not choosing me. I was having so much trouble focusing before, but now that I’m not worried about it… I think I’ll be fine.”

Yukhei leaves to wash his hands, calling some teasing remark over his shoulder. Baekhyun watches him leave and then immediately turns his gaze to Taeyong, curiosity evident. “I’m glad I could soothe your mind. Now, tell me what your friend’s doing here~” Again, he doesn’t seem annoyed, only interested to know the answer.

“He _wants_ to be chosen, so I’m letting him meet you. Unless you’ve already found someone?” Taeyong says honestly.

Baekhyun shakes his head, “I found someone, but they weren’t interested,” he teases. Then, more reserved, he adds, “I’ll think about him, but… being chosen is less about the obvious choice and more about the hidden gems.”

“So, I was a hidden gem?” Taeyong wonders.

Baekhyun only hums, “Perhaps~”

Yukhei returns to the garden, glancing between the two of them. “Did I miss anything?”

“Not at all,” Baekhyun purrs playfully, he motions for Yukhei to sit on the mat while they wait for Taeyong to finish cooking. And while they sit and Taeyong cooks, Baekhyun asks Yukhei questions—innocuous ones that seem like the type that would be asked in a normal conversation, but that Taeyong could see becoming more pointed, more important depending on how Yukhei answers.

It’s when Baekhyun asks Yukhei why he wants to be chosen then the conversation grinds to a halt, Yukhei floundering.

Taeyong’s rooting for him, really, which is why he chooses that moment to bring them their bowls of food and to sit down next to them. He pours them lemonade from a pitcher and then, sits back, hoping the brief interruption is enough for Yukhei to collect his thoughts.

“I guess… I want to prove myself.”

“To whom?” Baekhyun asks immediately, cocking his head. He’s yet to take a bite of the food, seemingly enraptured in Yukhei’s response.

“Myself?” He says, though it sounds more like a question than a genuine belief. Then, he pauses. “My friends and family, too? I don’t know. I want people to be proud of me, but I’d like to be proud of myself as well.” His eyebrows knit and he looks up at Baekhyun with something of a pout on his face. “Is that a good answer?”

Baekhyun cackles and the sudden seriousness of the dinner floats away on the sound of it. “If it’s an honest answer, it’s a good one,” he says with a smile. Then, he takes his first bite of food, humming with appreciation. “This is really good.”

“Thank you,” Taeyong says, inwardly preening. “That’s high praise coming from someone who eats with the gods, I imagine.”

Baekhyun grins. “It is.”

Yukhei finally collects himself again. “So, Baekhyun, why were you going to choose Taeyong?” He asks, curious as ever.Taeyong knows him well, too. Knows that there’s no ulterior motive here to better his chances, just a simple interest. Baekhyun must have a good read on Yukhei as well, because he answers him.

“He caught my attention that first day, but I also go with Jongin to see Taemin on the first day we arrive, to ask if he has any opinions.” Baekhyun takes a sip of his drink. “Taeyong was highly recommended.”

“Was I?” Yukhei wonders; Taeyong sees a flicker of hurt pass across his face.

“Perhaps,” Baekhyun says easily, noticing it as well. “There were many names. Taeyong’s only stood out because we’d met twice that same day.”

“I’d hardly call them meetings,” Taeyong grumbles. Once, he’d fallen from the tree, and the second time he had cowered in a restaurant booth.

Baekhyun snorts, but he also turns back to Yukhei, still concerned he’s hurt his feelings. “Do remember that Taemin is not Yokae. His opinion does not matter for the chosen, not in the end.” And then, he steers the conversation into safe realms, chatting with them about Khiti Khi—how the schools are doing, the restaurants, the parks.

He seems well-versed with the city, but, also, so foreign to it. So, Taeyong asks, “Are you from here? Khiti Khi, I mean?”

Baekhyun shakes his head. “No, but my best friend, Jongdae is. He talks about it so much sometimes I forget I’m not from here.” He taps his fingers on the table—still, never sat still—and continues, “I’m from Koyé—it’s… not around any longer?” He doesn’t sound entirely sure. “Or maybe, it’s under a different name. I’m not entirely sure?”

“Are you that old?” Both he and Yukhei say at once, teasing him.

Baekhyun scoffs, “I’m _not_. Time just passes differently in the Fog, and I spend more time there than most.” He doesn’t explain, going back to his home city. “Koyé’s nothing like this place, though. We were a port city. There was a lot more people and a lot less religion,” he says, smile nostalgic.

“How did you come to be Yokae then? If you weren’t religious?” Yukhei wonders.

Baekhyun regards him carefully. “If you know anything about the Yokae, you’ll know why it was possible,” and says nothing else on the matter. Neither do Yukhei or Taeyong, both of them choosing to move on, to question Baekhyun about his family, his friends. Those questions are of course returned, but the entire dinner remains light and carefree.

When the moon is high in the sky, they begin to wind down, the conversation slowing to a lull, their eyelids hanging heavy.

Yukhei leaves first, he has to travel a few neighborhoods away and doesn’t want to worry his parents getting back _too_ late. He helps clean, though, and by the time he’s left, Taeyong has very little else to do except go inside and to sleep _himself_.

But Baekhyun lingers, sat where they’d eaten dinner, still sipping on his drink. He’s thoughtful, if Taeyong were to guess, mulling things over in his head.

“What’d you think of him?” Taeyong chances, curious and hopeful for Yukhei’s sake.

“Hm?” Baekhyun shakes his head. “I don’t know. He’s earnest and wants to do well—he _could_ learn… but, I don’t think he’s the right fit.”

“What would make him the right fit?” Taeyong wonders.

After a long pause, Baekhyun says, “Someone to balance him out.” The statement hangs in the air.

“Ten could be—“

“Ten’s been chosen—though you shouldn’t tell him, yet.” Baekhyun interjects. “Jongin is going to mentor him on Taemin’s recommendation.” He taps his fingers against the table again, still thinking. “As a matter of fact, I’m the only one left to be making my choice.”

“If not Yukhei then?”

“No one, probably,” Baekhyun says. He sighs. “He’s sweet, and he _could_ excel, but I don’t think he can do it alone, nor do I think I’m the person that’ll balance him out.”

Taeyong sighs, weighs his decision for a bare few seconds before he asks, “And, if I agreed to be chosen on the condition that you chose him as well—can you even do that?—would that work?”

“You don’t want to be Yokae, Taeyong.”

“I don’t want to die. I don’t want to leave behind my dreams. I want to dance. I want to teach and guide and help people.” And now that he says it like that… well, it sounds like he _does_ want to be Yokae… at least, to some degree. “And Yukhei really ought to get a chance. He’s been training for so long, been wishing for so long.”

Baekhyun hums. “I’d choose you both, then. But… think about it a little longer. If you can’t commit to it, then you’ll both fail.”

“What does failing entail?” Taeyong wonders, dread flickering in his stomach.

Baekhyun shakes his head, “I really can’t say.”

He leaves a few minutes later, gratitude on his tongue, a gentleness in his eyes. And Taeyong stays, feeling not… trapped, but… precarious. As though he is stood on a cliff looking down upon an ocean of possibility, and all he needs is to jump.

***

After practice, Yukhei asks Taeyong if he’d like to walk home with him, but, though he’d love to—Taeyong declines. “I have to go think about something?” He says, tone floaty, non-committal. He _does_ have to think about something, but he’s not sure that sounds like the best excuse to use.

He prepares to clarify, but Yukhei waves him off. “That’s okay! I’ll see you tomorrow, then? For the performance?”

Taeyong chews the inside of his lip, “Yeah, I guess so.” He pats Yukhei’s arm. “Hey, no matter what happens… you’ve done well.” Yukhei’s dancing has been delightful, his pure enthusiasm and energy doing much to make him stand out. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” Taeyong says, waving as Yukhei grins and turns to leave.

He takes off walking in the opposite direction. There is a vantage point here on Kokhi’s Step—a set of rocks that jut out of the mountain and catch the sunlight. It’s a beautiful point at which to look out across Khiti Khi, and even beyond its walls, into the great unknown.

Taeyong goes there when he needs to clear his head, for its normally empty and devoid of life, of interruptions.

Somehow, as he walks the craggy path up to it, he knows that won’t be the case today. Perhaps, it is the magic clinging to the rocks, the heads of flowers, the strings of grass. Perhaps, it is the quiet. Normally, he would hear the wind. Tonight, there is nothing, just a simple, complete silence.

He rounds the last bend in the path, climbing up a short rock face, and pulls himself up to where the little clearing sits.

Indeed, it’s not empty. A Yokae lies sunning on one of the rocks, his paw hanging over the edge, the breeze floating through his fur. His tail curls lazily, his ear flicks infrequently. _Baekhyun_. Taeyong identifies belatedly. He has that teal feather earring that’s become so familiar, so characteristic of him.

“I was hoping to get some alone time, that way I could hear myself think,” Taeyong says, raising his voice so as to be heard.

Baekhyun’s cat-like eye cracks open, and the tuft of fur where Taeyong imagines his eyebrow might be twitches as though to say, _“And what’s it to me?”_

Baekhyun doesn’t shift from his pelt, just remains there, relaxed and sleepy.

Taeyong takes a seat in the grass, reaching out for a loose stone to toss between his hands. For a long while, he sits there in silence, mulling over his options, his choices. And then, he begins to talk out loud. “I want to give Yukhei a chance, and I’m not totally afraid of being chosen—not if you think I really _am_ a good fit for it… but, I’m so afraid of what I’ll leave behind.” He trails off, musing over things. “I saw a whole life ahead of me in Khiti Khi. If I were chosen, I don’t even know where I’ll be going, let alone who I’ll become?”

Baekhyun doesn’t answer, his eyes remaining shut, his body limp. The sun, setting as quick as it is, is slowly creeping down the stone he lays upon. Soon, darkness will coalesce atop him. _Then_ , Taeyong imagines he will shift.

“The stories all tell of these great battles. Of wars between the gods. They talk about eternity,” Taeyong relates, his voice quiet. He knows he’s heard, though. But he’s not sure Baekhyun’s allowed to tell him anything. “I’m not a warrior. I’m not a god. I’m a human, and I’ve always been happy with a lifetime. I can’t even imagine an eternity. I don’t want to lose my friends. I don’t want to lose my place?”

The sun falls below the horizon line, leaving them in a violet colored darkness, where the sky still retains some of the light, but not very much.

Baekhyun sheds his pelt, pulling it over his lap as he sits up and regards Taeyong. “No one can imagine an eternity,” he says. “I couldn’t when I was chosen.”

“Can you tell me about that?” Taeyong interrupts. “If nothing else, can you at least tell me what it felt like for _you_?”

“Koyé did not have Yokae. We did not worship your gods. _I_ did not worship your gods. But, the Yokae are not constrained to this mountain. They can travel, can explore. My mentor did that, found me and thought I was a good choice.”

“And what did you think?”

“I knew nothing,” Baekhyun says easily. “The choice was like a cliff. Behind me, I saw a city I knew like the back of my hand. In front of me, a chasm. At the bottom, perhaps there was water to catch me, or stone to break me. I decided the leap, the chance of there being something more, was more enthralling than my anchors.”

“It was easy for you, then?”

“Not at all. The Yokae who originally asked me had left by the time I made up my mind. I had to chase them down,” Baekhyun grins at the memory, trails his fingers along the fur of his pelt as though to elicit a brighter image of it all.

Taeyong falls quiet, tugs at the tufts of grass while he thinks, and then, asks, “Was it worth it? In the end?”

Baekhyun hums. “I think so. I have a pride full of friends as loyal as dogs. I have gods whose hands are inclined to heal my wounds. I have a heart that beats the golden blood of the Sun, breath tinged with the magic of the Moon.” He shrugs his shoulders. “It’s worth it,” he repeats.

Taeyong nods. “Okay, then let me ask again. If I let you choose me, you’ll also choose Yukhei?”

Baekhyun confirms.

“Does he have a chance? Honestly, does he have a chance of earning a pelt?” Because Taeyong loves him, but he doesn’t want to give up _his_ future if Yukhei doesn’t have that chance.

“Yes. He has a chance, but only if he has that additional guidance that a friend will bring.”

“Ten can’t give that guidance if he’s chosen as well?”

Baekhyun shakes his head. “While he might be able to for the first few of the nine trials, he wouldn’t be able to for the later trials, when you are isolated with your mentors.”

Taeyong sighs. “You swear you’re going to help us succeed, right? You’re not going to leave us to drown?”

“Never,” Baekhyun says. “Being chosen is an opportunity, not a sentencing.”

Taeyong breathes out slowly. “Then you can choose me and Yukhei both. Just… promise me you haven’t lied.”

“I haven’t,” Baekhyun soothes.

He leaves Taeyong there on the cliff, lets him mull over his choices. And Taeyong’s scared, but not so badly that he feels frozen and unable to move. He’s afraid, but the butterflies in his stomach are beginning to feel more like _excitement_ too.

***

The performance comes almost too quickly, and yet, too slowly all at once. Taeyong’s _prepared_ , and yet, not. Because, the performance comes with formalities, and though he only stands behind the stage right now, he can _see_ the audience. The Yokae sit on an elevated platform at the back of the outdoor amphitheater. Most have taken on human skins, some haven’t, but they are all decked out with their royal jewelry and tassels.

Baekhyun’s there, too, wearing his signature golden collar and teal tassels, bright paint streaking his chest and disappearing into the band of his pants. His eyes rove over the stage and then, to his friends, an easy smile coming to his face as he chats before the performance.

Taeyong’s made up his mind.

He may not trust the tournament, nor Baekhyun entirely—he has too many secrets—but, he trusts Yukhei and wants the best for his friend.

“Come get your make-up and costume on,” one of the artists invites him. He pulls away from his vantage point and over to her station. Red stripes are painted across his chest and back, a woven poncho of colorful fabric is secured around his neck, and a hooded cloak stylized to look like a tiger’s head and pelt is put over his back. Tassels of bells and feathers and bones are tied around his wrists, elbows, ankles, and knees.

His pants are dyed a deep red, the color of the mud by the river. His blond hair is streaked with it.

“You’re done,” his stylist tells him, patting him on the shoulder. “Hurry and get to your place, the performance is getting ready to begin.”

He plays one of the tigers in the beginning, an ensemble role, but an important one nonetheless. Later, he’ll become representative of Ki’u’s animal form, but for now, he is a mere tiger.

It’s not until he’s on stage, spinning, crawling, jumping, that he allows himself to get lost in the dance. Bells tinkle and ring all around him and the beat of the drummer’s drum help him to keep the tempo. He glides across the stage, flirts with the actress playing Ki’u—the first Yokae—and with the other “tigers” on the stage.

In the corner of his eye, though, he always sees Baekhyun, with his warm demeanor, his alluring presence.

And, while the performance is integral to this night, it’s the Choosing that serves as the climax. Taeyong has it at the forefront of his mind as he makes his last spin and comes to a stop, taking on his final pose. Afterwards, they bow, all of the performers together, in a line, and then, they sink to a seat. The crowd’s focus immediately shifts from the performers, with their heaving chests and adrenaline-bright eyes, onto the Yokae, in their lazy elegance.

Baekhyun’s gaze finds Taeyong, and he arches a brow. Knowing what he’s asking, Taeyong nods, an acquiesce, an agreement, confirmation that his choice hasn’t changed.

“It’s time to choose,” Baekhyun says calmly, his voice directed not at Taeyong, but to the crowd as a whole. The Yokae don’t have a leader, more of an elected speaker for each time they come to the base of the Mount. Baekhyun must be it, at least this year. “But first, let’s praise our performers again,” his voice is like a purr, so pleased, so smooth and honeyed, “For reminding us what the Yokae _are_ ; what it means to be Chosen.”

Another round of applause goes up, numerous whistles and whooping noises rising up with it. It continues for a long minute, until Baekhyun shifts on his feet and the crowd falls silent, once again expectant of what he will say.

He says nothing, instead, stepping back. From his left, Jongin melts out of his human skin—leaps into that of a tiger. His body like a ribbon as it travels through the air and lands in the dirt clearing the crowd has formed. That tiger stalks up to where Ten sits, and nudges him to his feet, towards the platform where Baekhyun stands.

Baekhyun gives him a necklace of fish bones and red beads. “Jongin has Chosen you,” he says, both for Ten’s benefit (if he’d never met the Yokae) and for the crowd’s.

The choosing continues like this. Yokae bleed into their pelts and walk into the crowd to make their choices. Each time, the crowd cheers. Each time, the Chosen person preens.

Of the thirty or so Yokae here to choose, only fifteen or so have made choices. And now, it seems the choosing ceremony is over. But, Baekhyun hasn’t made _his_ choice.

The crowd holds its breath, waiting to see if Baekhyun will close the choosing, or if he will pick someone from amongst them.

His gaze roves over everyone once more, until it settles on Taeyong, and Yukhei sat next to him.

He doesn’t shift to his golden pelt, only crooks his fingers and smiles in invitation. “Taeyong and Yukhei, you’ve been Chosen.”

Yukhei gasps, his hand immediately finding Taeyong’s and squeezing. It’s a welcome comfort since, even though Taeyong had agreed to this, his knees feel weak, his heart fluttering in his chest. They both climb to their feet and make their way up to the platform, where Baekhyun hands them twin necklaces of bird bones and teal beads.

They join the other Chosen on the platform, Yukhei grinning widely, brightly, _proudly_ , and Taeyong smiling softly next to him.

Baekhyun clears his throat, and steps to the side, so that it is the Chosen who take center-stage. One of the Yokae on the end of the line prompts them to bring their linked hands up—a symbol of unity, of strength, of togetherness.

“These are our Chosen. Celebrate them and wish them luck; some will earn their pelts, others will not.” Baekhyun calls out, voice echoing through the amphitheater.

The silence hangs in the air for a bare moment, and then, it shatters.

The crowd _roars._


	2. Sunrise

“So, where are we going?” Yukhei asks, nudging Taeyong and Ten’s shoulders as he asks the question. Jongin and Baekhyun, walking right ahead of them, hardly show evidence of having heard them. Yukhei repeats himself, and only then do the two Yokae turn around and look at him, eyebrows raised, lips pulled taut.

“Up~” Baekhyun singsongs with a grin, laughing at his own joke.

Taeyong frowns; Ten rolls his eyes. Baekhyun _does_ get a laugh out of one of the chosen boys—Mark, whom Taeyong knows only in passing.

“I mean for real,” Yukhei pouts. “Does it have a name?”

Baekhyun sobers up. “It _does_ , though names are… well, let’s say if it _isn’t_ the name of a god, then it’s not all too important here?” He continues their trek. Taeyong’s a little pleased to see him pant—at least it’s as difficult for the Yokae as it is for the chosen.

And it _is_ difficult, the climb. The path is one of the more treacherous, in Taeyong’s humble opinion, and the wind tugs at their bodies. Not to mention the height of some of these narrow cliffs. Just an hour or so earlier, Taeyong had watched someone slip and nearly slide over the edge. Their Yokae mentor had caught them by the arm, but the image of falling sits at the front of Taeyong’s mind.

God, he _hates_ heights. He shouldn’t have let Baekhyun choose him. The trials go _up_ the damn mountain, not down it, and this is only the third level of _seven_.

“But, it _does_ have a name,” Baekhyun finally says, as though he’s noticed Taeyong’s sickness and wants to distract him from it. “We call it Ki, and, we’ve arrived.” He points up ahead at a stone archway. Behind it, there’s just empty air.

Taeyong stares at him, deadpan. “Not funny.”

“I’m not joking,” Baekhyun says.

The group comes to a halt just outside the archway. Taeyong pushes past a few people to crane his head over the edge. He hadn’t been wrong. There’s nothing beyond this archway but a plummeting drop.

Yukhei, even, looks mildly concerned, shifting on his feet. “This has to be a joke.”

Baekhyun shakes his head again, and, without further prompting, steps through the archway and…

Disappears.

The other Yokae fold through the arch after him, each of them disappearing as though they’ve walked through a curtain and let it fall back behind them.

“Oh,” Yukhei says. “It’s magic.”

“ _Khikʼi mbõchu_ ,” Several displeased voices mutter at once. _No_ _shit_ it’s magic.

Taeyong remains where he stands, staring at the drop off. This is _cruel_ , in his opinion. How many people have a fear of heights? How many people are going to trust strange mountain magic? What if _this_ is a test, and those that aren’t worthy of becoming Yokae simply fall?

“Hey,” Yukhei says, squeezing Taeyong’s shoulder. “You good?”

“No,” he says honestly, still staring at the ledge. A few of the chosen have already made up their minds and stepped through, but Taeyong. He _can’t_. “Yukhei, I can’t do this.”

“You can,” he says. “I’ll hold your hand.”

“I’m not a child.”

“Didn’t say you were.” Yukhei says. He nudges Taeyong’s hand with his. “Just know you don’t like heights. We can walk in together. _Hell_ , you can close your eyes, if you want?”

Taeyong swallows the bile in his throat. Ten casts him a worried glance and then steps through the archway on his own. Taeyong wants to hope he’s all right, but… he just can’t get his feet to move. They remain rooted in place, his body frozen in place. “Okay, yeah, just drag me through,” he finally says, after several labored breaths. “Like, don’t even tell me when we’re going, just… pull me through.” He squeezes his eyes shut.

Yukhei’s hand wraps around his—big and warm—and for a moment, they don’t move.

Then, Yukhei _yanks_ him from his feet. Taeyong’s eyes fly open and he screams as they fall through the archway and… onto solid ground.

He falls onto the grass, the momentum of the tug coupled with his panic making it impossible for him to catch himself. He sighs with relief at it.

Baekhyun crouches down next to him. “Sorry, should have warned you. It’s charmed like that to keep people from wandering where they shouldn’t.” He helps Taeyong to his feet, then pats Yukhei on the back praisingly. “Welcome to Ki, though.”

At the words, Taeyong looks around. Ki, the third level of the Mount, is liberating in a sense. From their vantage point, seemingly on the crest of a hill, the flat plateau that makes up this level is covered in wiry green grass, with a sparse wooded area, and a sea that rings the middle of the mountain, upon which they’ll continue their ascent.

Later though, Taeyong notices, since Baekhyun leads them to a camp-like settlement in the fields. Ten and Jongin join them. “So, when do the trials begin?” Taeyong asks.

“You’ll have some training first,” Baekhyun tells him, taking a seat at an unlit fire pit. He gets to work starting a flame with some kindling, flint, and steel. Taeyong and Yukhei take a seat near him, cross-legged and _small_ in such an unfamiliar environment. They’re both from the city. They know nothing about living off the land. “We don’t throw you to the lions immediately,” he continues. “Then, after that short period of training, we’ll begin the first trial.”

“Do we get to know what that is?”

“We’re not in Khiti Khi anymore,” Baekhyun says with a boxy grin. “The first challenge is… me. Well, your mentor,” he says, glancing at Ten, “So, you’ll be challenging Jongin.”

“Challenging him to what?” Ten asks.

“You have three choices. A hunt, a fight, or a race,” Jongin explains.

Baekhyun nods, blowing the fire into a thicker flame. He sits back. “Each tests you differently, but each test isn’t _equal_ , if that makes sense? There are wrong choices just as there are right ones.”

“But that’s for us to gamble with?” Taeyong supposes. Baekhyun nods. “Well, I don’t know about you guys, but _I’m_ definitely going to race.”

“I might fight,” Yukhei says, flexing his arm.

Baekhyun tracks the movement, momentarily quiet, then his gaze flicks back up to their faces. “Like I said, there _are_ wrong choices.” Then, he stands up and shifts into his pelt, landing on four legs. He retreats from their fire, loping off towards the woods.

Jongin glances at him, then waves his hand dismissively, “He’s going to go catch us something to eat.” He lazes against the grass. “In the meantime, I’d love to hear your plans for success?”

“Don’t die,” Taeyong says seriously.

Ten and Yukhei _both_ roll their eyes this time. Ten shakes his head exasperatedly. “I think I’ll try hunting—I think you could outpace me _or_ beat me in a fight otherwise.”

“Wise choice,” Jongin says. His eyes travel to Yukhei’s.

He shrugs, “I don’t know. I _thought_ I’d fight, but that almost seems like the wrong choice, now?”

“The fight is to the death—it’s the only part of the tournament that is, though the others can get dangerous,” Jongin tells them candidly. “You have to kill your Yokae, or your Yokae will kill you.”

“Definitely not fighting, then,” Taeyong mutters. Yukhei echoes his sentiment, eyes wide.

“Guess I’ll try a hunt, too,” Yukhei tries. “I have a feeling Baekhyun could outrun me if he tried.”

“Which he will~”

All of them laugh, and once the sound peters into silence, Taeyong looks around again. The camp… it has a certain homeliness to it. Even though he feels so far from home, so out of his element, he feels welcome, like this is a place he’ll _soon_ be comfortable with. Like this is a place that can become home in time.

The thought is especially soothing after his worry all the days prior.

Baekhyun returns soon, interrupting a light conversation about tournament logistics and joking bets about the other chosen. He’s got a young buck thrown over his shoulders, one he drops into the grass next to them. He takes a curved, skinning knife from his belt, and begins to prepare the animal, his ear turned towards the conversation at the fire.

“Now that we’re chosen, can I ask about Taemin?” Taeyong wonders, cocking his head. The conversation had come to a lull, and, almost unbidden, his curiosity about the dance instructor had flashed to mind.

“He and Jongin were chosen together,” Baekhyun says.

“Taemin got to the fourth trial,” Jongin agrees with a nod. “But he didn’t pass it. So, he returned home.” He shrugs his shoulders. “Most of the chosen don’t go back to their homes if they fail? I think they find it embarrassing? But Taemin always just said he’d given up his pelt—and it’s not a lie—so the people thought he made it all the way through.”

“So, we can go back home if we fail?” Yukhei gleans.

Baekhyun nods, “You _can_ , and it’s honestly encouraged. But, you don’t always get the chance—like if you lose the fight. If you’re merely dismissed, you’ll be asked not to tell the secrets of the trials, though.”

Taeyong rests easier at that, knowing he can fail and still make something of his life. If anything, it soothes his heart more than anything else. For now, the trials are merely a new experience, a new challenge, but not an end-all.

The meat goes onto the fire for roasting, and later, they all eat it together—the meat rich and hearty. It’s a good kill, on Baekhyun’s part. The buck isn’t only satisfying for _them_ , but also for a few other campfires—all fed from the same animal. The sun is setting, though, and with Jongin taking Ten away to his tent, Yukhei and Taeyong are left alone with Baekhyun.

“So, do we share a tent?” They ask, motioning to the one behind them.

Baekhyun nods, “It’s big enough for all of us, don’t worry. You want a fuller tent, anyways, since the wind gets so cold come nightfall.” He begins to put out the fire. “Really, it probably is time y’all rest. The climb sucked,” he drawls, “and you have a long day tomorrow.” With the fire put out, he guides them into the tent.

Taeyong’s not sure _what_ he’s expecting, but…

Well, it’s a lot more spacious than he’d imagined. Not like one of those tents that could serve as a house, but certainly not cramped. He won’t have to cuddle with the other two ( _though_ , his mind supplies, that doesn’t sound _too_ bad). The floor of the tent is covered in animal pelts and furs, as well as woven blankets and plush, feather stuffed pillows and throws.

Curiously, the tent doesn’t appear all that well lived in, even as Baekhyun flops down amongst the blankets, making himself right at home. “Do you not live here often?” Taeyong wonders, tossing Yukhei a blanket that looks large enough to cover him. He grins in thanks and makes his own bed amongst the furs, propping his head up on his hand.

“I don’t. Most often, I’m at the peak, where I sing for the gods,” Baekhyun says with a smile. “And when I’m not there, I spend a lot of time in Chopí. It’s quiet there, without many distractions.”

“You don’t seem like the type to like the quiet,” Taeyong says, cocking his head.

Baekhyun shrugs. “I love it~ it’s good to rest, so long as you don’t fall into laziness.” He pulls idly at the tassel on the ends of one of the threaded blankets. “What are you? Someone who likes the quiet or thrives in the crowd?”

“Quiet,” Taeyong says immediately.

“Crowd,” Yukhei says, similarly without hesitation.

Baekhyun hums, as though he’d expected those answers from them. He rolls over onto his back. “Well, then the two of you will work well together. Where one balks the other should be able to step up.” He falls silent. “That’s good for a pair.”

Yukhei and Taeyong both share a glance, lips tugging into smiles. Yukhei’s is confident, Taeyong’s… nervous but excited. Anything that suggests he’ll succeed…

“You should sleep, though. Tomorrow, you have a long day. Minseok will be leading training.”

“What will you be doing?”

Baekhyun laughs, “Sunning, or something.”

Taeyong’s not entirely sure if it’s a joke or not, but candidness of Baekhyun’s laughter startles up some of his own, and in turn, Yukhei’s. When he does finally set his head down on the pillow, some minutes later, sleep comes easy—warmth overtaking the anxiety in his heart.

***

Come morning, Taeyong realizes Baekhyun _hadn’t_ been kidding. After seeing that Yukhei and he are dressed in deerskin tunics and pants, he sends them out to the field where a stocky man awaits them. Sometimes, the Yokae don’t appear very feline in their human skins. This man _does_ , with cat-like eyes and mannerisms. It’s almost curious to watch.

After leaving them with who must be Minseok, Baekhyun takes on his striped pelt and bounds over to a few flat rocks that jut above the tall-grass. He nudges his head to a few of the other Yokae lounging there, his tail flicking to-and-fro, and then, collapses lazily in the sunniest vacant space on the rocks.

“Isn’t he supposed to be our mentor?” Yukhei muses, eyeing Baekhyun’s spot with a mixture of both envy and criticism.

“I guess this part isn’t really important? At least, like, individually? It’s probably just some general training, right?”

“Does that mean it’s easy?”

“Hopefully~” Ten singsongs, taking up a place in the line beside them. They’re ordered in three columns and several rows. Taeyong, Yukhei, and Ten make up the last of said rows—pleasantly far from Minseok’s spot. But, their reprieve does not last long. As soon as everyone has found their spot in the field, Minseok begins barking commands.

First, it is to stretch. All three of them: Ten, Yukhei, and Taeyong, are dancers and plenty familiar with the type of warm-ups they’re meant to be doing. Since many of the other Chosen are also from the Academy, they _too_ do well. But, there are those among them that have never done this style of structured warm-up, and they _do_ struggle be it with balance, flexibility, or something else entirely.

The leader in Taeyong, who wants to help and to teach, nearly reaches out to help those struggling people. But Minseok, who walks along the lines, beats him to it. His voice softens when he’s talking to individuals, taking on a teasing, but a guiding personality.

It puts Taeyong at ease for the rest of their training. At least he knows now that Minseok is not a tyrant.

Only a perfectionist.

For a couple hours later, Taeyong’s shins are bruised, his ribs aching, and his forehead dripping with sweat. They aren’t even sparring yet. No, this is only the lesson on _form_. Minseok walks about with a green-switch, a springy branch from a young sapling, and quite literally whips them into shape.

The shock of the mark helps them to isolate where the issues are, though. Taeyong isn’t balanced properly and each mark to his legs has been a reminder to straighten out his form, to widen his stance, or inversely, to tighten it up.

Yukhei bears more marks to his arms, for, just like Taeyong—he also struggles with balance, but also, with grace. Instead of holding his arms in a way that is meaningful, they nearly flail about. Mostly because Yukhei is so focused on his leg-stance that he forgets his upper-body.

Ten is the most successful of the trio, after only two snapping cracks, he’d adjusted his form, and now balances with great ease. Minseok’s already moved on to teach him different styles of kicks and blocks.

Everyone else remains behind, concentration wavering under the hot sun. And they continue on that way until nears high noon and the Yokae begin to roast meat over the flames. Baekhyun remains splayed out atop the rock, shows no sign of cooking for Yukhei _or_ Taeyong.

Which is frustrating, since the other Yokae come over to the group and feed their Chosen with a pair of chopsticks, or merely their hand, depending on who it is.

Taeyong’s stomach grumbles.

“Hungry?” Yukhei grimaces, wobbling in his pose. Taeyong chances a glance at him, watches as he regains his balance.

“Yeah,” he says, agreeing.

“I hope he brings us something,” Yukhei says, eyes wide and fixed on where Baekhyun naps. “I’m starving.”

Taeyong feels a gaze as heavy as a weight and searches for its source. It’s Minseok, who raises a brow, lips pulling taut (not a frown, but not a smile either). “Once you get your form together, I’ll release you to go eat.” At that, he taps Ten on the shoulder with the switch. “You can go, since you’ve mastered it already. See if Jongin has any additional training for you. Meet back here come sundown.”

Ten practically bounds away now that he’s been released from training.

Taeyong almost wants to cry. It’s not that it’s particularly difficult, it’s just uncomfortable.

Still, with the knowledge that he need only master his form in order to rest for the afternoon, he feels invigorated—like he _can_ master it in the next hour—and if he does, he’ll get to march on over to Baekhyun himself.

Taking a deep breath, he pulls his concentration together.

Yukhei does similar, with help from Taeyong. They count one another’s breaths, see that they’re relaxed, meditative. They offer one another tips. To Yukhei, Taeyong tells to pull his elbows in. To Taeyong, Yukhei tells to shift the angle of his hips. With the pointers, both of them start shaping up.

It takes another couple of hours before Minseok taps them both out. Taeyong heaves a sigh of relief, wiping sweat from his face with the collar of his shirt.

“He hasn’t moved,” Yukhei deadpans, staring at the rocks where Baekhyun lays. He’s not entirely right, since Baekhyun _has_ moved, though only enough to raise his head and stare at them lazily. His gaze tracks them all the way up to standing right in front of him, and only then does his flick and ear and shift from his golden pelt to his human skin.

“That took a while,” he comments, cocking his head.

Taeyong frowns. “We’re starving.” He looks around at the other Yokae fires forlornly. “You didn’t cook for us.”

“You don’t _want_ me to cook for you,” Baekhyun says with a grin. “Jongin’s the only reason last night’s buck was remotely edible.”

“How hard is it to roast meat?” Yukhei wonders.

Baekhyun shrugs. “Besides, cooking for you would negate my purpose. I’m here to teach you, not to coddle you~” He slips off the edge of the rock and motions for them to follow him. The three of them begin to walk towards the woodland, and that’s when Taeyong’s heart sinks.

Yukhei understands at the same moment. “You are _not_ going to make us hunt after we spent the entire morning training.”

“I am,” Baekhyun says. “You’ll thank me for it later. Now, come along.” He leads them under the forest canopy. A shed sits near the edge, and, when Baekhyun pulls open the decrepit, rotting front door of it, it reveals numerous weapons. There are spears, bows and arrows, even swords and axes.

Baekhyun fishes out a bow and quiver and a spear. To Yukhei, he gives the bow, and to Taeyong, the spear.

He must see the confusion on their faces. After all, Taeyong is the smaller of the two chosen. He had expected to be given the bow, which is a range weapon, and Yukhei to be given the spear, as it required more brute strength—at least, in his humble opinion.

“Yukhei has the shoulders to draw a bow,” Baekhyun explains, sliding a hand up to wrap around Yukhei’s bicep. “Archery takes a lot of strength here and in the back.” He motions to Taeyong. “Taeyong is more flexible and nimble. He’ll be able to hunt in close range since he’s agile enough to get there in the first place.”

Put that way, it makes sense.

“We’re in the Western Wood,” Baekhyun continues, explaining where they are in relation to the campsite. “On this side of the field, you’re going to see more big game. Large falcons, deer, and boar to name a few.” He points behind them. “In the east, there’s the river. You get fish over there, small game, and a few elk herds as well as large predators, like bear and mountain lions.”

“What’s in the North?” Taeyong asks.

“Saw’s Ocean,” Baekhyun says. “You can hunt sharks and other things there, but it’s not really recommended. A lot of trouble for little gain, in my opinion.”

“Okay,” Yukhei says, soaking in the information. After all, he’s the one considering challenging Baekhyun to a hunt—it’s good for him to familiarize himself with the game around here.

Baekhyun stops a few minutes later, when the underbrush isn’t as thick, and they stand in what was probably a neater clearing some decades ago, but is now quite overgrown and wild. There, he begins teaching them how to properly hold their weapons. Yukhei’s good at drawing the bow, Baekhyun had been right in that he possesses the strength to do so easily, _but_ when it comes to aiming, he still struggles.

“Which makes plenty of sense,” Baekhyun soothes, “Since you’ve never touched a bow in your life.”

“Well, I have,” Yukhei starts.

“For performance, I’m sure. Never to hunt. There’s no need to in Khiti Khi,” Baekhyun finishes for him, eyes glittering affectionately. “Here, keep trying—make a target of that knoll. I’m going to help Taeyong for a bit.” So, while Yukhei readies himself for another few tries at his new “target,” Taeyong prepares himself to deal with Baekhyun’s perfectionism.

Baekhyun puts him into the proper stance for wielding the spear, and then starts to run him through the different movements. He cautions that the spear’s length might make it gangly and awkward in Taeyong’s hands. When hunting, Taeyong needs to not only be mindful of the sound his own body and footsteps is making, but also of the spear.

If he turns around, he needs to be conscious enough not to let the shaft slap against a tree—alerting potential prey to his location.

As Taeyong replicates Baekhyun’s advice, he thinks that, though the lesson is taught in the lens of hunting, it translates just as easily to a fight or a patrol.

The Yokae are warriors. Hunters on the battlefield above all else.

So, Taeyong learns diligently, pushing away even the claws of hunger, so that he can focus. For these lessons seem like the most important. These seem like the foundation. Like, if he learns these he will have a good shot at the rest, but if he doesn’t, he’ll fail most certainly.

“You two keep practicing,” Baekhyun says eventually. “I’ll be right back,” and he disappears into the underbrush, shifting as he does so. Taeyong can hear his paws thudding away, but within a few seconds, there is not a single sound to be heard. In the silence, he’s left with Yukhei and the frequent sound of his spear swishing through the air, of the bow being drawn back and released.

It’s calming, in a way. Meditative being alone out here without any of the other Chosen.

“I’m still hungry,” Yukhei says a few minutes later, wiping sweat from his brow and walking to retrieve his arrows from the tree. At least he’s hitting it now, though only one of the many arrowheads is stuck in the designated target-knoll.

“Me too,” Taeyong says. “I imagine there’s a reason he’s teaching us this now, though.” He resumes his stance and practices a few more of the jabs Baekhyun had taught him. “If you don’t think too much about it, it’s harder to notice.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

And they lapse back into quiet, both of them continuing to practice. With Baekhyun away, Taeyong’s sure that the both of them could stop and rest—and even if Baekhyun caught them when he came back… he really doesn’t seem like the type to punish them for it (even if he _does_ seem like the type to be disappointed, or to gripe)—but neither of them do stop.

As the minutes tick on by, Taeyong loses himself in the motions, in the dance with his spear. It’s easier the longer his practices. It’s becoming more like second-nature than anything troublesome or awkward.

“I’m surprised you two kept practicing,” Baekhyun says, making his return. He has a pair of rabbits held in his hand, their pelts slightly blooded at the collar, but otherwise very precise, clean kills.

“Were we not supposed to?”

“Well, you _were_ , I just didn’t imagine you’d behave so well,” Baekhyun grins. “Here, let’s head back. You two can return your weapons to the shed and I’ll go commandeer someone’s fire and cooking abilities.” Baekhyun shifts and bounds away, leaving Yukhei and Taeyong to pick their way back to the shed where they deposit their weapons and then turn to walk the rest of the way back to camp.

It’s getting to be near sundown in Taeyong’s opinion, and with that knowledge, he becomes worried about timing. Will they have enough time to cook, to eat, and then rest before the next part of training begins for the day?

Yukhei beats him to the question, once they’re sat cross-legged next to a fire. Baekhyun sits down with his back resting against a log, but he turns at the sound of Yukhei’s voice. “Are we going to have enough time to eat?”

Baekhyun hums, nodding. “Yeah, plenty. While everyone else goes out at sundown to train with the weapons exactly like you two already have, y’all are going to eat, wash up, and take a nap. Sometime tonight I’ll wake you both up and we’ll work on another skill.”

“Is there a reason you’re not having Minseok teach us?”

“I think it’s better you two learn together. You’ll have to work together for most of your trials, so I want you to be more familiar with each other’s strengths and weaknesses than your own—if that makes sense?” He shrugs his shoulders. “Plus, I think it’s good for us to bond.”

Yukhei and Taeyong both snort and turn their gazes to the fire, watching the meat roast. The Yokae who had seasoned it has left them to it, disappearing to go help with training, which is now beginning, since the sun is going down.

“Are you both feeling more confident about the trials?” Baekhyun asks.

Yukhei nods enthusiastically. “I was kind of struggling this morning, but now that I’m all sore and tired, I feel like I’ve… put in a lot of good work? Like, I feel as though I’m actually training.”

Taeyong nods in agreement. “Same. I’m not sure if I’m so much more confident, since my ego took a bit of a bruising, but…” he rubs his shins, feeling the dull prickle of pain. “I think I’m learning, too. And if I keep learning, I suppose I’ll grow more confident.”

“That’s good to hear. Minseok’s a tough teacher, sometimes. Far tougher than Taemin.”

“I thought Taemin was a perfectionist, but Minseok almost puts him to shame,” Yukhei agrees.

Everyone laughs.

“Minseok’s from Khiti Khi. He was an instructor at the Kokhi Academy before Taemin was there. He was actually chosen quite late.”

“Who chose him?” Taeyong wonders, not that he knows the name of many of the Yokae.

“My friend Jongdae. They were friends growing up, but Jongdae was chosen and Minseok not. He came back for him, though.”

“Are they together?” Yukhei asks, blunt as ever.

“No, only friends,” Baekhyun muses. “Though sometimes I think they’d make a good couple.” He lets the statement close with that, turning he attention back to the roasting rabbits. “Do you think they’re done?” He asks.

Taeyong gives it a glance. “A few more minutes, then yes.”

“I’m so glad you can cook,” Baekhyun says, letting his head thump back down on the log. He gazes up at the sky, seemingly lost in thought.

Taeyong smiles and folds his arms atop his knees, resting his head on them. Yukhei leans against his side, a warm, welcome presence as the setting sun leaves way to a cooler, nighttime breeze. They stay quiet like that for a while, eventually taking the rabbits off the fire and beginning to eat.

It’s not until Baekhyun’s licking his fingers clean that he’s talking again. “After your nap, I’m taking you to the ocean. Do both of you know how to swim?”

“Yeah,” Taeyong says. Yukhei nods, echoing his affirmation.

“All right, that’s good. Ten and Jongin might be joining us, but he may be too tired after this evening practice.” Baekhyun shrugs. “I’m going to go catch up with some of my friends, figure out everyone’s progress for the day. You two know where my tent is, when you’re done, go nap. You need the rest.”

As soon as he’s gone, Yukhei turns to Taeyong and sighs. “It’s more difficult than I thought it’d be.”

“Training?”

“Yeah.” He casts his rabbit bones into the fire, wiping his hands off on a cloth. “I’m glad we’re here together, though. I don’t think I’d have managed to keep it together alone.”

“It’s the first day,” Taeyong says, frowning. But, he understands. He gets it just the same. _He_ certainly wouldn’t have stayed if he didn’t have someone he had to do well _for_.

And while Baekhyun _is_ encouraging and Taeyong thinks he will soon _want_ to make him proud, right now, he is still a stranger. Were Taeyong to drop out of the trials now, he wouldn’t feel like he’s letting Baekhyun down. But, with Yukhei here, it’s an entirely different story.

Yukhei shrugs, doesn’t seem ready to offer anything more than what he’s already shared. “Are you done?”

Taeyong tosses his rabbit bones into the fire as well and rises, nodding. “He said we’re having a midnight practice, right?”

“Just something come nighttime,” Yukhei clarifies. “Guess it could be earlier _or_ later than that.” He paces Taeyong on the way to the tent, “Either way, I think I could sleep for a week after today. My back is so sore.” He stretches, punctuating his misery.

Taeyong hums, unlacing his boots and then pushing aside the tent flap. He collapses onto the same pallet of pillows and blankets as he’d slept on the night before. “I feel you,” he agrees. “Do you want a massage?”

“ _Please_ ,” Yukhei flops down beside him, on his stomach.

Taeyong sits up and straddles his thighs, smoothing his hands up and down Yukhei’s back, rubbing out knots of tension with his knuckles. Where Yukhei winces, Taeyong becomes gentler, pays more attention, determined to work out even the most stubborn ropes of stress.

“Are you still afraid?” Yukhei asks. His voice rumbles out beneath Taeyong’s palms.

He pauses only briefly to appreciate the feeling. Then, he turns his attention to the question. “Maybe not afraid, but… I am still nervous.” He mulls for a moment. “Like I said to Baekhyun, it’s difficult, and I’m not _super_ confident, but… now that I sort of know what the trials are going to be like I don’t really feel a lot of _blind_ terror, if that makes sense?”

“I think I might be more afraid now. I was so prepared for this to be like the stories made it sound, and now it’s… different. Not a bad different, just an unexpected one.”

“I understand,” Taeyong says.

He gives Yukhei’s back a final rub, then, flops back down beside him. “That’s the best I can do~”

Yukhei stretches and lets out a pleased little sigh. “Thanks, it feels better already.” Then, he tugs a blanket over the both of them. “ _Ki kitu_.” Good night.

Taeyong mumbles it back to him, and then, closes his eyes. Sleep takes him immediately.

***

He’s roused by the shake of a gentle hand. After he grimaces, yawning as he wakes, the hand moves from his bare shoulder-blades to Yukhei’s, waking him up too. Yet, even as Taeyong blinks sleep from his eyes, he finds there’s little to see. It’s horribly dark inside the tent, likely because it’s still moon-high.

“Baekhyun?”

“Yeah,” he answers, voice soothing. “It’s me. Come on, I told you two I was going to wake you, right?”

Taeyong gives a hum of assent and pushes himself to sit upright. His muscles _ache_ with pain, but the ache makes him proud—makes him feel as though he’s learned, as though he’s actually done good work so far. Yukhei groans from beside him, smacks his lips, and then rises as well.

“Grab a towel each. They’re rolled in the back of the tent,” Baekhyun says. “Then meet me outside, all right?”

They both nod, crawling to where Baekhyun had told them towels would be. Paired with his question about being able to swim earlier, Taeyong has a pretty good idea of where training is going.

When he finds himself on the black sand beach that borders Saw’s Ocean, he’s proven more than correct. He eyes the black water sea trepidatiously, not wholly convinced Baekhyun’s going to be able to get him in the water at this time of night, _especially_ if it looks as terrifying as it does now. “Is this one of the trials?”

“It’s part of one,” Baekhyun confirms. “I want to make sure you two are… semi-prepared for it, so, we’re going to do some exposure training.”

Even Yukhei looks a little ill at the sight of the inky surf. “What does that, uh… require from us?”

“Trust, mostly,” Baekhyun says. He undoes the ties on his shirt and pants and then, begins to wade into the sea. “Saw’s Ocean is… a lot to swim in. Come on, I’ll show you what I mean.” He beckons them to join him.

Taeyong and Yukhei share a look, neither of them particularly eager to wade into the cold water.

But, they do so anyways. Neither of them want to fail out, after all, and training is meant to help them _avoid_ that.

The ocean, as it rushes past Taeyong’s knees, hips, and then chest, is bitingly cold and oddly… restraining. He feels _so_ sluggish once walking into the waves, and it’s not merely the physics of walking against the current that makes him feel that way. _No_ , it almost seems arcane.

“Give me your hands,” Baekhyun says, holding out his palms to the each of them. Taeyong grips it tightly, waiting for their next direction, teeth chattering. “Now, I want you to dive down beneath the surface a bit. Don’t panic, I’m holding onto you both.”

Taeyong blinks, frowns, and figuring it’s better to get it over with, dunks down beneath the surface.

Immediately, the ocean erupts into _wailing._ It’s horribly intense, frighteningly _real_. Taeyong jerks, his body recoiling, though from where, he can’t really tell. It _surrounds_ him.

A force tugs on his hand, and then, his head breaks the surface of the waves once more. He watches as Baekhyun drags Yukhei up too.

The sound has faded away, but the memory of it is still so shocking. Taeyong’s lip trembles. “What was that?”

“Saw is a goddess,” Baekhyun begins. “Of the sky, to be exact. Her lover attempted to climb to her embrace, making a ladder into the sky.”

“But?” Yukhei predicts.

“But Saw’s mother cast him back down to Earth. His fall, coming from such a great height, and at such a great velocity, created a crater. When Saw realized what had happened to him, she sobbed, and her tears filled up his grave.” Baekhyun releases Taeyong’s hand and lets his fingers play along the surface of the water. “So, what you hear when you’re submerged is her crying.” He frowns a bit at that. “I hate the trial we do here, but Ki’u is fond of it.”

Ki’u is _the_ Yokae. The Guard at the Gates.

Taeyong looks back down at the water sloshing around his chest, but before he can comment, Yukhei says, “It’s _depressing_ ,” with wide eyes and a frown.

“I know,” Baekhyun says. “Her magic drains your energy too. She wants you to feel as morose as she is,” Baekhyun explains. “Either way, I just want you two to get used to swimming beneath the waves. I can hold your hands until you’re comfortable with me letting go, but I just need to be sure neither of you are going to panic and drown come the trial.”

“Has that happened before?”

“Not often,” Baekhyun says. His tone though makes it clear that he’s serious about their getting familiar with this place, though. He actually _is_ concerned for their well-being. “But, yes. So, I want to make sure it won’t happen to either of you,” he repeats.

Taeyong takes his hand again, feeling infinitely safer when he’s got it, and then submerges himself once more.

It’s not… traumatizing, but it is _difficult_ to bear, at least at first. But the longer Taeyong listens to it, the easier it is that he’s able to rationalize it. It’s just a magical effect. It isn’t a threat, it isn’t a plea for help. It’s merely an echo of sorts, constant, repetitive and… while _real_ , it’s not harmful. Not to him, at least so long as he’s able to keep his head on his shoulders.

Eventually he graduates to holding _Yukhei’s_ hand, and that’s all. Baekhyun wades a little further away, giving them more space, and lets them practice.

It’s more difficult when he’s away, since the water is so dark, they cannot see him. It causes a few prickles of panic in Taeyong’s heart, but they don’t last, not when he knows Yukhei’s right beside him, practicing just as he is.

After submerging and resurfacing a few more times, Taeyong takes to just treading water. The cold has seemingly gone away, though he doesn’t know if it’s because he’s stopped _focusing_ on it, or just because he’s used to it. “Were the trials the same when you were one of the chosen?”

Baekhyun hums, “Some of them are different. Like the first one, the challenge? We used to only have the option to fight—and we fought other chosen, not our Yokae.”

“Was it still a fight to the death?” Yukhei asks, eyes wide.

“It didn’t have to be, but sometimes people’s pride would get poisonous.” Baekhyun frowns. “Hence why it was changed to allow other options. Those arrogant people can still choose to fight, but they fight their mentor, not some kid like them.”

Taeyong looks down at the blackness of the sea, wishes he could see through the reflective water just a _little_. “But you went through this trial?”

Baekhyun nods, “Yeah. My mentor helped me through it. It’s one of the only trials I get to accompany you on, not as an adversary or anything, but as a helper.” He leans back in the water, floating comfortably. “It’s easy when you have someone with you. Not _everyone_ will, some of the mentors don’t want to help, others feel as though it’s time for their trainee to be dismissed, but… I’m confident in the two of you, at least right now.”

“Why?” Yukhei wonders.

“Because you two are going to work well together. Already do, but the longer you lean on one another, the closer you’ll become.” Baekhyun’s eyes sparkle as he says this, as though charmed by the idea of it all. Then, he looks back to the shore. “Come on, morning practice is going to get started soon. Minseok’s having you spar today.”

Yukhei and Taeyong groan and then begin the trudge out of the water.

Baekhyun only laughs, his smile breezy, open, friendly.

***

The practice period seems to come to a grinding halt, it stops so suddenly. Taeyong’s _not_ prepared to be woken by the sound of a bell tolling almost ominously. The sound isn’t one of mourning, not like they can be in the city, but rather, it’s a heralding bell, a rallying bell. And that is where Taeyong’s apprehension roots. For a rallying bell can only mean the trials have begun.

He’s quick to wake Yukhei (who had continued to sleep like a log). “Get up, I think the first trial is beginning!” he hisses, reaching for his tunic and pulling it over his head. Yukhei blinks awake blearily, but, upon recognizing the sound of the bells, his face splits into a nervous grin. He’s excited, though, like Taeyong, apprehensive as to how he’ll do, as to whether or not he’s prepared.

By the time they stumble outside, into the morning sunlight, people have already begun to gather in the center of the field. The Yokae wear their bright colors and paints, looking every bit like the celebratory warriors that they are. The Chosen, by contrast, seem quite plain.

“Baekhyun’s over there,” Yukhei says, pointing.

Taeyong follows his gaze, shading his eyes with his hand. With the bright sunlight blocked out, he’s able to recognize Baekhyun’s teal beads, feathers, and paints where he stands chatting with a few other Yokae.

Baekhyun catches sight of them out of the corner of his eye and beckons them to his side. Both of them jog over to him. He places a palm on each of their shoulders and turns to them, leaving his conversation behind to walk with them a little ways away from the crowd. “Are you two feeling prepared?”

“No,” both of them say in tandem. Baekhyun laughs openly, coaxing a sheepish chuckle from the both of them.

“Have you thought more about what you’re going to challenge me to?” Baekhyun wonders, steamrolling onwards.

Taeyong nods immediately, “I’m going with the race.”

“I’ll do the hunt,” Yukhei says, wringing his hands in front of him. He _has_ gotten better with the bow. If he’s able to track down a herd of deer, then he may be able to best Baekhyun. In Taeyong’s opinion, it’s definitely the more difficult option, though.

Baekhyun hums. “The hunt will happen first. We like to get everyone out in the morning.” He scans the field and then points Yukhei to a gaggle of trainees. “Go stand over there. The judges will run over the rules with all of you and then give you a head start.” Then, unexpectedly, he puts his palm around the back of Yukhei’s neck and draws him close, pressing their foreheads together.

Taeyong watches, heart pattering, as Baekhyun whispers a few words for only Yukhei to hear. Then, he draws back. Yukhei nods, ruffles Taeyong’s hair one last time, and then jogs over to the group of hunters.

Baekhyun turns to Taeyong. “You’ve got a while to wait. We do the race towards the evening. After the hunt, we’ll have the fights, and _then_ it’s your turn.” He shrugs. “You can practice in that time, or you can watch the other tournaments. It’s your call—there’s no right or wrong choice in my opinion.”

Taeyong’s not entirely sure how you practice for a race—at least, the day of—but he _will_ take the time to stretch and warm-up, he supposes, so he nods anyways. “All right. When does the hunt begin?”

“Give it a few minutes, you’ll see them all run off to the woods,” Baekhyun says with a grin. “You want to make bets.”

“Haha~” Taeyong says sarcastically. He peers at the group of hunters. They’ve chosen their desired weapon. Of them, Taeyong already feels good about Ten—who has chosen a _net_ from the pile. “Ten’s going to win.”

“I think so too. It’s breeding season for the salmon in the river. He’ll catch tons across the duration of the hunt. Yukhei’s going to do well too.”

Taeyong doesn’t disagree, but he’s curious as to why Baekhyun’s made that judgement. “What makes you say that?”

“He’s looking into the Southern Woodland,” Baekhyun says. Taeyong’s not sure the weight of such a choice. If he’s remembering correctly, it had been the Western Wood that held most big game, while the Eastern Wood was more perilous.

“What’s over there?”

“For each level of the mount, there is a beast native to it. On Ki’s level, we have wild boars. They’re large, the size of bears. But, they’re lazy, easy to kill,” Baekhyun tells him. “I didn’t tell Yukhei about them, so he must have been asking around.”

“He _has_ been talking to other Yokae,” Taeyong admits. Over the practice period, Yukhei had been the social butterfly, going out to eat at other fires. Sometimes, he came back with advice to share with Taeyong, other times, he merely said he’d made new friends. “Where are you going to hunt?”

Baekhyun hums. “The elks are overgrazing in the east. Jongin and I are going there to hunt some of them down. Prune the herd.”

“You can work together?”

“No one said we _couldn’t_ ,” Baekhyun replies. He rolls his shoulders back and motions back to the hunters. “Watch, they’re about to start.”

As soon as he finishes saying that, a whistle is blown. The hunters all immediately dash in the direction of their hunting grounds. Yukhei is the only person to go towards the South, and he seems proud for it, a brazzy smile on his face as he jogs into the underbrush and disappears beneath the canopy.

Baekhyun watch him leave, and then, waves Jongin over. “That’s my cue to head out,” he tells Taeyong. “Remember, it’s perfectly fine to just stand around a watch for now, but if you want, see if you can find someone to do a few laps with you or something. And remember to stretch, if you injure yourself, you won’t be able to race~”

Then, he’s jogging to go meet Jongin, shifting mid-step.

Taeyong gapes. He’d forgotten the Yokae were… well… Yokae. They have _pelts_ , claws, jaws. He’s going to be racing with a tiger, not another human. Yukhei is hunting against a _tiger_ , not another human.

“Oh my god.”

Now, it feels more serious to stretch and prepare himself for the coming races. He’s not afraid, but he is a little worried that the race will be unequal. And, if it’s unequal, then Taeyong needs to do his best to equalize it.

He’s sits down to stretch and is soon joined by a girl around his age named Yeri. She’s not someone he knows too well—in fact, Taeyong’s not sure she’s from the Kokhi Academy—but, her company helps to ease his anxiety. “So, you’re racing too, I imagine.”

“Yeah,” Taeyong says. “As soon as Baekhyun told us what the three choices were, I knew I’d race.”

“I was the same way. Not sure how fast I’ll be against four legs, but… I think I can hold my own,” she says. “My Yokae’s over there. Irene. I think she’s probably as fast as a swallow.”

Taeyong searches the field and finds a snowy-colored tiger lounging atop the same outcropping of rocks as Baekhyun tends to sun atop of. She has a lean, lithe sort of body, the type that Taeyong _would_ think is rather fast. But Yeri seems clever and quick-footed as well, so then again, he doesn’t really know _who’ll_ win.

“My Yokae’s hunting right now,” Taeyong says. “But I think I can beat him in a race. Maybe. I don’t know, really. How fast can a tiger be?”

Yeri laughs. “I imagine they’re pretty fast. I think it may come down to endurance though. Irene was telling me that the race goes around the sea. We have to run through the woodland and all. It’s a _long_ race.”

“Is that why they do it in the evening? People would die of heatstroke were it in the middle of the day.”

“Yeah, probably. Do you know if anyone’s fighting this year?” She wonders, changing the topic.

Taeyong shakes his head, “I haven’t really talked to all that many people, so I wouldn’t know. Baekhyun hasn’t really mentioned it either.”

“They don’t like when someone chooses to fight,” Yeri says, frowning. “It’s too arrogant. The Yokae normally hold back, too, which gets them killed.”

“Do they get another Yokae if they kill their mentor?”

“No, so they fail out anyways—at least, that’s what Irene told me. I don’t _know_ that’s for sure or anything, but I trust her word for the most part.”

Taeyong nods, focuses on stretching out his hamstrings again. “Baekhyun’s been training us for one of the other trials, the one with the ocean?”

“Irene hasn’t told me anything about it,” Yeri says, arching a brow. “What’s it about?”

Taeyong shrugs, “Well, he hasn’t told us what the trial actually _is_ , but he has had us training in the water. If Irene doesn’t take you out there, I can definitely help you sometime between practice? It’s really scary.” He’s not entirely sure if he’s overstepping, but Taeyong’s not going to leave someone in the dark when he’s got the privilege of knowing something. “It’s like once you go under the waves, you just hear _wailing_. It’s freaky.”

Yeri frowns, “That sounds horrible. I’ll try and ask Irene about it, but if she won’t tell me anything, I’ll definitely come practice with you. I’m not a very good swimmer.”

“Let me know,” Taeyong says, agreeing with her. “I’m afraid of failing out, so I definitely want to help others avoid it.”

Yeri laughs. “I don’t know, you seem to fit here pretty well. You don’t overestimate yourself, but you don’t seem to underestimate either. I think you’ve got healthy nerves _and_ confidence.”

“I hope so,” Taeyong stands, finishing his stretches and finding his feet. In the time he’s been chatting with Yeri, he’s admittedly forgotten about the hunts, but, as he looks around, he catches sight of a few Yokae and a few hunters returning.

The Yokae, on average, seem to have gone for _smaller_ game, but a lot of it.

Yeri points. “Seulgi and Sooyoung are both back.” She frowns. “I think Seulgi’s won, though.” When she walks off to greet them, Taeyong follows, not wanting to be left alone. As they near the pair, they catch wind of the conversation. Seulgi’s praising Sooyoung.

“You did well~”

“Ah, but you’ve caught more! Does this mean I’m dismissed?”

Seulgi snorts, “Not necessarily. Wait for the judges. You’ve caught the prettiest bird I’ve ever seen. They might think it’s worth at least _four_ of my hares.”

Yeri comes up to stand next to them, immediately reaching out to clasp Sooyoung’s shoulder. She peers down at Sooyoung’s catch. Indeed, there’s a gorgeous falcon atop the pile, as well as a couple of hares, a squirrel, and a mouse. By contrast, Seulgi has caught six hares, a couple of squirrels, and three fish. She has more in her pile, but, like she’d already explained, the falcon may just be worth much more. “I think you did fine, Sooyoung. You bowed all these down?” She taps the bow resting on Sooyoung’s back.

“Yeah,” Sooyoung says, nodding. “Some of the shots are messy, but—“

“They’re far cleaner than Yukhei’s are going to be,” Taeyong says. Three different gaze shoot to him. “Sorry, uh, it’s just that I think a lot of the chosen probably don’t have any experience with their weapons. At least, not until coming here. You’re father’s a trapper, though, back at Khiti Khi.”

Sooyoung smiles, “Yeah! He’d take me out hunting from time to time.”

“I wouldn’t worry then,” Taeyong says with a smile. “The falcon really is a good catch.”

“Stop talking out your ass, _kisha ki_ ~” Seulgi admonishes with a grin. “ _You’re_ not a hunter.” She claps him on the back, and then ruffles Yeri’s hair. “The two of you should get back to practicing. Don’t you have a race to win?”

“Ah, it’s in a few hours,” Yeri whines, but she steps back anyway. “Whatever. You did good Sooyoung, I bet you’ll beat her!”

She drags Taeyong away.

Taeyong scans the field, finds the Yukhei’s returned, and that Baekhyun’s walking across the field to meet him—with a plank sled in his hand. He’s caught three elk. Jongin walks next to him, in his pelted form, dragging a fourth elk along. “Oh no,” Taeyong mutters.

Yeri follows his gaze. “Damn. Is your Yukhei going to beat that?”

“I don’t know. I guess it depends on how many elk are Baekhyun’s and how many are Jongin’s.” Taeyong quickens his pace to go meet them. As he does, he catches sight of Yukhei’s trophy. It’s a boar, as large as Baekhyun said it would be. _But can it win against four elk?_

“How many are yours?” Taeyong says breathlessly as he arrives next to them, Yeri in tow.

Baekhyun looks up at him. “Only one. I was feeling lazy.” Taeyong notices Jongin raise a brow and shake his head, but he doesn’t say a word to disagree. “Yukhei definitely beat me,” he shrugs, smiling easily.

Yukhei’s grinning a thousand-watts, his smile as bright as the sun. He’s _so_ proud of his catch. And that pride bleeds onto Taeyong. They spend a while complimenting it, then have some introductions with Yeri (and eventually Sooyoung and Seulgi, who joins them). All the while, they’re waiting for Ten to return.

He does, right before the last whistle is called, hauling a net full of fish.

Also slung across his shoulder is a pair of red foxes, their pretty pelts shining underneath the sunlight.

Taeyong might not have been confident that the net would outweigh three elk, but with the added fox-pelts… which are considered a luxury item even down in Khiti Khi… perhaps Ten _will_ win. The judges come by a few minutes later and confirm it.

So, Yukhei, Ten, and Sooyoung all graduate to the next level.

The groups both split off again, the mentors separating to give their chosen different advices. Baekhyun clasps Yukhei’s shoulder in hand and grins. “You did well! I’m proud.”

Taeyong smiles, sees it means a lot to Yukhei. He’s one step closer to his dream, now.

Then, Baekhyun turns to Taeyong. “And you’ve been making friends. Good, because you’ll want a lot of them as the trials progress.” He crosses his arms and relaxes. “Are you ready to race?”

“Don’t we still have a few hours?”

“Well… yes, I’m just asking. If you’re ready now, you’ll be ready then.”

“I don’t know about that,” Taeyong says. The closer it gets to time, the sicker he thinks he’ll be. Maybe if he tells himself the butterflies in his stomach are that of _excitement_ and not of nerves, he’ll do better.

Another bell tolls, dragging all of their attention towards the center of the field. A rope fence has been erected, plotting out a circle of land about the size of a sport’s field—perhaps a little smaller. “Is that where the fights are going to take place?” Yukhei wonders, smile fading.

Baekhyun nods. “Yeah, we have two fights this year.” He stares at it for a moment longer. “I normally don’t watch. I’ll probably head in for a nap.”

With that, he leaves abruptly. Taeyong’s gaze follows him for a few seconds and then, flits back to Yukhei’s. “Should we follow him?”

“I certainly don’t want to watch a bloodbath,” Yukhei deadpans. “Come on, we can cook my boar. Baekhyun already told me he’s going to be giving his elk up to the gods.”

Taeyong nods. The both of them drag Yukhei’s catch over to Baekhyun’s tent, at which point they begin to section the meat, setting some out on a rack to dry out for storage, while putting the rest over the fire. While Taeyong works on seasoning the meat and seeing that it cooks right, Yukhei disappears inside the tent.

He hears hushed voices and then, Yukhei reemerges, Baekhyun in tow. “You’re joining us now?” Taeyong says by way of greeting.

Baekhyun snorts, “I’ll never turn down good food, and I happen to know you’re a good cook.” He smiles and takes a seat in the dirt next to the fire. “You two aren’t watching the show?”

“Hell no,” they say in tandem.

A jeer goes up in the distance. Maybe someone’s won, or perhaps the fight’s just reaching a climax?

“It’s not good entertainment, in my humble opinion,” Baekhyun says. “There are a few trials where dying’s a _risk_ , but that’s the only one where it’s a _given_.” He frowns. “Hate it.”

They nod. Taeyong takes off the first piece of meat that’s finished cooking and offers it to Yukhei, as the hunter who’d brought in the catch. “Figured that was the case, you don’t really seem all that tired,” Taeyong says.

“Oh, don’t get me wrong, I can go for a nap anytime too,” Baekhyun says. “But yeah…”

Yukhei swallows his food. “I could go for a nap anytime too,” he echoes, immediately brightening the mood. “In fact, after trying to kill that thing,” he point to the boar carcass, “I think I can sleep for a week.”

Baekhyun barks out a laugh. “They’re going to introduce the next trial today, but you complete it on your own time. It’s not like today with the designated periods, you know? So, you can definitely take as long a nap as you need.”

Yukhei pumps his fist, grinning. “Hell yeah. The next trial is the ocean one, right?”

“Yep,” Baekhyun says.

A whistle goes off.

Baekhyun looks across the field. “That’s both fights done. I wonder what the outcome is.” Jongdae, one of Baekhyun’s Yokae friends, is returning from that direction. At Baekhyun’s wave, he comes to sit by their fire. Baekhyun asks him the results.

“Both of the chosen failed. They’re being dismissed now.”

“They’re not dead?” Yukhei asks.

Jongdae shakes his head, “Their mentors convinced them to forfeit. They’re being given their options now.”

Baekhyun sighs with relief. “Well, that’s a good outcome, no?”

Jongdae grins, “Better than it could have been. I’m glad. I hate having to do burials, Chosen or Yokae. It’s so depressing.” He wrings his hands together. “The races are going to start early, though, because of it. You ready?”

Baekhyun scoffs, “Born ready.” He glances at Taeyong and cocks his head. “How about you?”

Taeyong wheezes. “I’ll manage.”

Everyone laughs. They pass some meat to Jongdae and continue to chat, sharing their feedback from the day. It’s interesting to hear the two Yokae discuss what they think of the different Chosen and the different techniques. And, it’s from Jongdae that he hears three other chosen have been dismissed in addition to the two that had chosen to fight.

It’s a lot, considering there’s not that many Chosen to begin with.

But, before he can dwell on it any further, the bell tolls. It’s time for the races.

Taeyong stands, wiping his hands on a cloth Yukhei offers him. He does a couple more quick stretches and then, walks into the field, Baekhyun beside him. They pause a little bit away from the action, and then, Baekhyun pulls him into a similar embrace—forehead to forehead—as he’d taken with Yukhei.

It’s gentle, intimate, and calming. “Do your best. Don’t think about winning or losing,” Baekhyun says. “The trials are tests of character, not tests of strength. The race will be difficult, but it’s worth it. I promise. Now promise me you’ll try hard?”

“I promise,” Taeyong says.

“You’ll do great,” Baekhyun says, drawing back. “Head over to the starting line. Chosen stand on one end and the Yokae will stand on the other. Wait for the whistle, don’t start early.” And with those final, parting directives, they separate. Taeyong walks over to his section of the starting line. From here, he can’t see past everyone else to the far end, but he imagines Baekhyun’s there, jesting with his friends.

Someone shoves his shoulder. “Run with me, I know a shortcut,” Yeri hisses. “Seulgi just clued me in on it.”

Taeyong laughs, “All right. If you lose me, though, don’t worry. I’ll manage on my own.”

He doesn’t get a chance to say anything else as the judge begins talking, explaining the route they are to take. It’s marked with red ribbons. They should follow that path, but, as the judge explains, there won’t be line guards, just the Yokae on the trail. He warns them against cheating, for if a Yokae catches them, even if it’s another competitor, they’ll be dismissed.

Taeyong takes all this in mind and then, waits for the whistle, blood pumping through his body startlingly fast.

The whistle blows and the starting line _explodes_ into motion.

Yeri sprints off, and Taeyong follows her after a brief moment—shock giving way to clarity. Adrenaline rushes through his limbs, seems to power his steps, as they all rush into the first stretch of woodland.

The difficulty of the underbrush and uneven land immediately causes some of the racers to slow. The Yokae, all of whom have taken on their pelts, thrive in this environment, easily keeping pace with the racers that are doing well on the terrain.

But, the track is wide, giving them space to spread out, and soon enough Taeyong’s lost sight of everyone except for Yeri, who still easily outpaces him. Each step springs through his body. He’s not tired, not yet, and surprisingly, he feels rather well accustomed to the pace and the terrain.

Maybe the training really _has_ been making him stronger.

Yeri looks behind and catches Taeyong’s gaze, then, nods at small ravine. “Come on, make sure they don’t see you,” she hisses, slowing so that she can slide down the incline. Taeyong does a quick glance around and then follows her, sliding down—gravel, dirt, and leaves scattering from beneath his feet.

His landing’s a bit rough, but… not too bad. “How’s this a short cut?” He asks, picking up the pace again.

Yeri jogs beside him comfortably. “This is going to run deep and turn into a natural tunnel. It cuts out a whole section of forest and even though there’s some tricky parts with the rocks and whatnot, it’s _supposed_ to be a clearer path.”

Taeyong nods and follows along, careful not to slip on any gravel. He can’t be having a twisted ankle, especially down here, where people aren’t _meant_ to be running. “Is this a legal shortcut?” He asks, then, since Yeri had asked him to look around and make sure no one could see.

“Technically… yes,” Yeri says grinning. “But also no. It’s within the bounds, but part of the tunnel isn’t. Regardless, even if they catch us, they can’t really tell us we’re in the wrong since you enter the tunnel legally, if that makes sense?”

Taeyong gets it, he thinks. So, without any anxiety about being disqualified, he continues along.

Running down in the gully (which, as Yeri had said it would, _is_ getting deeper) is rather relaxing. It’s completely quiet apart from the sound of their footsteps thumping against the ground. Plus, since the path is fairly clear, Taeyong gets the chance to look around at the actual scenery.

Down at the bottom of the gully, it’s mostly bare, but the plants that _do_ grow there grow up the walls, chasing the sunlight, and many of them bear large, upturned flowers in a multitude of colors.

Similarly, if he looks up to the sky, he can see butterflies flit about overhead, or the occassional deer on the edge of the crevasse, grazing peacefully, unconcerned about his presence at the bottom.

It’s nice in a way he hadn’t expected the trial to be.

The tunnel, though… the tunnel is dark. Not entirely, for it has numerous skylights where trees roots break through the earth and expose slivers of sunlight, but Taeyong certainly doesn’t want to get caught up in it after dark. Seeing as the races began in the evening though, it’s best he and Yeri hurry along. Here, they _don’t_ have a lot of time.

“There’s a fork in the tunnel somewhere in here, but I’m pretty sure if we follow the right path we’ll make it out the other end.”

“You’re not sure?” Taeyong asks, faltering.

“I’m mostly sure,” Yeri says. They continue running. Inside the tunnel, there’s an echo. There’s also the eerie sound of water running from the floor to the ceiling, as well as the sound of animals moving around. Without any visuals, though, Taeyong finds the whole thing rather creepy, even if most of the noises are just the product of a mole or mouse.

They reach the fork in the tunnel. Yeri makes to go down the right path, but Taeyong reaches out and grabs her arm, pulling her to a stop. The right path _is_ lighter, brighter, and more inviting, but…

He can smell and feel the breeze in the left tunnel. He can smell the _sea_. “I think we’re supposed to go left.”

“I’m pretty sure Seulgi said right~”

“I can smell the ocean, though,” Taeyong says. He deliberates. “I’m going to go left.”

“Well, I’m going right.”

So, they part with the knowledge that if one of them gets lost, at least the other knows which way they went. Taeyong finds the tunnel scarier in the dark, alone, but the sea-breeze steadies his heart and keeps him moving forward. Until… he’s forced to stop.

It’s a dead end that he’s lucky to have seen. For just a few steps in front of him, the ground abruptly drops away, revealing a pit full of water.

It smells strongly of salt-water.

Taeyong groans. Yeri had been right.

But, when he makes to turn around, he finds that he’s trapped. The path he’d taken is now blocked by solid stone. Not the effect of a cave-in or something similar, but what looks like thousand year old stone, all packed together.

He presses his hand to it, feels magic singe up his arm. But it’s _solid_.

_Can he not turn around?_

Panic spikes in his heart. He looks around the space he’s now trapped in. There is the ocean below him, but he’s not sure there’s an easy way to climb down to it. If anything, he’ll have to jump. And if he can’t climb _down_ then he most certainly won’t be able to climb _up_.

Above him, there’s a skylight and a tree root poking through the ceiling. It’s _high_ up, though, and Taeyong’s not entirely sure he can jump to reach it, nor will he be able to scale the walls and leap for it, seeing as the tunnel is quite wide and the tree pokes through in the middle of the ceiling.

He looks down at the ocean, frowning.

He could maybe call for help. Someone might be passing by overhead, but…

Taeyong shakes his head and looks back down at the ocean. Unless it’s an underground sea (which he doubts it is), it should lead to the surface _somewhere_. He can feel a breeze coming up from down there.

He closes his eyes, breathes deeply, and then takes a running start at the edge.

He slides to a halt just before he can tip over the edge, and collapses to his knees. _Oh, god_ , he thinks, staring into the dark. _I can’t do this_.

Unbidden, the image of Yukhei taking his hand and tugging him through the archway into Ki comes to mind.

He sighs and gets up, backing up again. He tries the running start once more, but again, he stops right before the edge, unable to throw himself over.

Again, he replays the scene at the archway. Except this time, he doesn’t back up for another running start. He just… steps over the edge.

And _plummets_.

He hits the water feet-first, with a _splash,_ but as soon as his head submerges, it comes alive with the sound of Saw’s crying. And while it’s unnerving for a brief few seconds, it immediately becomes _comforting_ , for Taeyong knows exactly where Saw’s tears lead.

He grins beneath the water, bubbles escaping from his mouth, and swims to the surface, expecting to have to route his way through the rest of the tunnel.

But when he breaks the surface, he does so the dying rays of the evening sunlight. Just a few lengths from him, he can see the rocks around the black sand beach. He _knows_ this spot, for its where he goes to practice with Baekhyun. _“What?”_ he whispers beneath his breath.

He’d already known the tunnel was magic, just not… this magic. He swims for the shore and gets out on the beach, sopping wet but… alive and in a place he recognizes. He spots one of the red ribbons marking the track. If he follows the beach, not only does he remain within the boundary, but… that’s the finish line, right there.

He starts to sprint, and as he does so, he hears the sound of paws thudding against the ground. A dark, ash-colored Yokae streaks past him, but that’s not the only set of paws he hears.

No…

The tiger that pulls up alongside him, equal in pace, has a familiar red-gold coat, teal-feather earrings, and teal paint. _Baekhyun_.

His paws eat up ground, but he’s clearly holding back in order to keep pace with Taeyong. His pants are heavy, his fur streaked with sweat, but he still seems so energized, his eyes _alive_ with adrenaline. Taeyong thinks he sees a sparkle of curiosity there as well, like Baekhyun wants to know exactly how Taeyong ended up so far ahead, but…

Taeyong looks back ahead, focusing on the sprint to the finish, lengthening his strides.

As he runs, he hears a cheer go up. There’s a crowd at the finish line, clapping and jeering with each competitor that finishes the race.

Taeyong pulls ahead of Baekhyun. The distance doesn’t last long, Baekhyun stretching to lengthen his stride, huffing under his breath.

But come the finish line, Taeyong _dives_.

He rolls through the sand on the other side, kicking it up all around him, feeling more than a few scrapes and bruises, but when he sits up, Yukhei’s crouching next to him with a huge grin spread across his face. “You beat him!” He shouts, shaking Taeyong’s shoulders.

Baekhyun shifts and pulls on an offered robe, then crouches next to them. “What the hell was that? Diving for the finish?” He cackles. “Didn’t know you wanted to win so bad.” He takes one of Taeyong’s hands—Yukhei takes the other—and they pull him to his feet. “Come on, I want to hear about wherever the hell you went. And, I’m hungry again.”

Taeyong’s stomach rumbles. He is too.

But, he also wants to know how Yeri’s done. He asks if she’s back yet.

Yukhei shakes his head. “No.”

Baekhyun glances at Taeyong. “You sound worried?”

“We used the tunnel shortcut, but split up mid-way through. I took the left path, she took the right.” He _is_ worried. He doesn’t want Yeri to be trapped down there, nor does he want her to lose and get dismissed from the program.

Baekhyun relaxes, “Oh, then she’s fine. She should show up in a few minutes. Wait- you took the left path?”

“Yeah,” Taeyong says. “It leads to an underground pool. I jumped in and surfaced in the ocean.” He points.

Baekhyun follows his finger. “No way. That’s totally how my mentor beat me whenever _we_ raced.” Baekhyun pouts. “I always took the brighter path, which is the right. It’s a lot of running, you still have to go through a portion of forest at the end.” He shrugs. “Irene got caught up in the forest. Had to help carry some kid out of a ditch, Yeri’ll probably beat her by a mile.”

As though on cue, Yeri comes jogging across the finish line. She catches Taeyong’s gaze and points. “What the hell?”

He shrugs, “I don’t know,” and they leave it at that, both of them laughing. Yeri walks over to Seulgi and Sooyoung and another Yokae that Taeyong doesn’t know yet.

Baekhyun nudges his shoulder. “Come on, let’s go eat. You passed. Both of you did,” he turns and pats them both on the back. “I’m proud.”

And that’s the highest praise in the world, no?

***

The next trial is announced at the end of the night. It’s to retrieve a Tear of Saw. What exactly that _is_? Taeyong doesn’t know. But, he’s sure Baekhyun will give he and Yukhei a run down. For the rest of the evening, though, they lounge about, lazy and happy and successful.

It’s while they’re all laying in the tent, drinking from a deerskin canteen of wine, that Baekhyun reveals both he and Yukhei have already passed the second trial.

“Neither of us got the tear, though?” Yukhei asks, confusion evident in his tone and furrowed brow.

“That’s the third task,” Baekhyun says, waving his hand lazily. “The second task is a quiet task. We want to make sure that the people we allow to become Yokae are people that are deserving of it, and the people who deserve it most are those that are… good, simply put.”

Taeyong remembers what Baekhyun had said. That the tasks were not to judge strength, but rather, to judge character. “And both of us have passed?”

“Yukhei’s been teaching one of the other kids how to use the bow, unprompted so that they wouldn’t fail the hunt, and well… you completed the task all the way back in Khiti Khi,” Baekhyun says, he takes a sip of his wine and then relaxes back onto his pillow, relaxed and at ease.

Taeyong thinks of what good thing he could have done back in Khiti Khi. He was so anxious, then, that he doesn’t know what—

 _Oh_.

He agreed to be Chosen. That has to be it.

“So, you’re saying we’re already two trials in. Of how many, again?” Yukhei says.

“Nine,” Baekhyun reminds. “And I expect both of you will complete the third trial. So…” Baekhyun trails off grinning. “The two of you are doing very well. At least, for city boys.”

Both of them slap him playfully, but Taeyong’s smiling. Two trials down, seven to go. It doesn’t feel all too daunting now that he’s experienced one. And, if some are as easy as just being a good person, then… maybe he doesn’t have to be so worried about failing.

“Well, since we know what the third trial is, do you want to share the fourth one with us?” Taeyong wonders.

“Sure,” Baekhyun says breezily, propping his head up on his hand. “Whether you know about it in advance isn’t going to help you.” He fiddles with a tassel—never able to keep still. “After you complete the third trial, we advance to the next level of the mount: Chopí. There, you’ll be asked to find the witch and earn her blessing.”

“That’s it?” Yukhei wonders, after a beat of silence.

“Yep.”

“What’s the catch?” Taeyong asks, narrowing his eyes.

Baekhyun hums. “Well, if she doesn’t think you’re worthy of continuing, that’s it. You’re dismissed.” He trails off for a moment, thinking. “I’d give you advice, but I don’t know quite how it works _either_. She’s been deciding worthiness since I was a chosen one.”

“What’s she like?” Yukhei asks.

“Sharp? She reminds me of an owl. Really wise, mysterious, hidden away. I got along with her well, though. I think if you just go in there with no expectations and you’re _honest_ , then you’ll do fine. My mentor didn’t offer me any advice for her.”

“Oh?”

“We happened to have a falling out.” He shrugs, rolling back over. “Either way, I think the witch’ll like the both of you. If she liked me she’ll like you.”

“The witch is the trial Taemin failed out of,” Taeyong says after a beat of silence, remembering that Baekhyun had said he didn’t last beyond the fourth trial.

Baekhyun nods. “Most will fail out there.” He trails off, lets his words hang in the air. “Jongin almost failed out there too, though he didn’t tell me why.”

“Do most of the Yokae have a moment where they almost fail?” Taeyong wonders.

“Yes,” Baekhyun confirms. “You _can_ fail, actually. Just not on certain trials.”

“Did you fail?” Yukhei asks.

Baekhyun sighs. “Yeah. I actually failed thrice. The seventh task is one of the ones that… if you fail you normally die, but one of my fellow trainees actually saved me.” He continues, “And for both the sixth and the ninth task—I wasn’t able to complete them without help. It’s kind of like the witch’s task, where you don’t really have a choice in whether or not you pass. It’s dependent on other, exterior factors.”

“So, how did you become Yokae?”

“Lawt’aka took pity on me,” Baekhyun says. It’s honest too, Taeyong can hear it in his tone. But for as honest as it is, it doesn’t answer many questions, only breeds new ones.

Lawt’aka is the God of Love. Taeyong wonders how Baekhyun earned _their_ favor, how he earned their _pity_. But, he also knows better than to ask.

When they fall asleep that night, Taeyong feels restless, like he has more questions than answers.

So, he’s not surprised when he wakes up in the middle of the night. Yukhei snores beside him, even as Taeyong frees himself from the cuddle and crawls out of the tent.

He _is_ surprised to see Baekhyun already out there, though, dousing a fire. He turns at the sound of Taeyong’s footsteps and arches a brow. “What are you awake for?”

“Don’t know, just… woke up. Figured I’d come out here for some air.”

“I’m about to go for a walk, you’re welcome to join me?” Baekhyun offers.

Taeyong nods, and so, a few minutes later sees him walking a well-trodden path through the Eastern Woodland. Birds twitter quietly above them, and crickets make that soft, musical chirping noise all around them. It’s nice, it’s peaceful, it’s quiet.

“Can I ask about Lawt’aka?” Taeyong finally asks, since it’s been on his mind _since_ he fell asleep.

Baekhyun shakes his head. “You can ask, but I won’t answer, so it’s not really worth.”

Taeyong falls quiet again. “Does that happen to other Yokae? Where they fail but are still given a pelt?”

Baekhyun nods. “Most of us, actually. _Do Sewoyú_ are… divine trials. They’re not meant to be accomplished by humans. Even Ki’u, when she first completed them, had already stolen herself a pelt. Jongin was given his pelt by Ki’u herself, because she felt he was an apt warrior, despite where he’d failed. Jongdae was given his from _Pawyí_ , the Birdsong, because he was wanted as a herald.”

“But those are, forgive me for putting it this way, gifts given to reward ability. You said Lawt’aka saved you out of pity.”

“I had the skills, I failed for reasons unrelated to a deficit of _my_ character, but rather, because of someone else’s,” Baekhyun says. His face is blank. It must not be a kind memory. “I don’t like talking about it. My trials aren’t going to affect your trials.”

“Okay,” Taeyong says easily. “I trust you, don’t worry. I was just… curious.”

He hears Baekhyun let out a sigh of relief. They walk in silence for a few minutes, and then, Baekhyun asks, “Tell me about how you grew up, your family, your friends… I feel like we’re strangers sometimes, even if we’re not.”

Taeyong smiles, “I feel the same.” He scuffs his shoe in the dirt. “Well, to start, I have an older sister—she didn’t like the idea of joining the Kokhi Academy, so she works on the riverboats with my father.”

“Ah, do they fish?”

“They dive, actually. Pull up pearls and stuff.”

“Is that why you learned to swim? I only notice that a few people from Khiti Khi don’t seem to know how.”

“Most people know the basics, but yeah, my dad used to take me out to the river to help me swim against the current.” Taeyong grins at the memory. “You’re from a port city too, right?”

Baekhyun nods, “Koyé,” he reminds. “I worked on the docks. Kept ledgers by day and moved product by night.”

“Was there a reason you only moved product by night?”

“Got paid extra for it,” Baekhyun says, shrugging. “Don’t know _what_ I was moving, just the weight and amount. Then I’d balance things out in the daylight to make sure the shipments stayed a secret where there ever an inquest made.” He grins wolfishly. “Koyé was a city serving the gods of hedonism. As long as you made your money, you didn’t ask questions.”

“Khiti Khi isn’t like that,” Taeyong says. “It’s more of a community. There are less secrets and less judgment—in all manners of life.”

“I noticed. When Jongdae first told me about it, it sounded wonderful. I’m glad to visit it on occasion. The people there really are… realer, gentler, more human—if you ask me.”

Taeyong feels a flare of pride, for his city, for his people. “I’m glad you think so. I still would like to visit Koyé.”

Baekhyun laughs. “No, you wouldn’t… it’s gone anyways. At least, the Koyé I knew is.” In the quiet that follows, Taeyong hears the sound of the river, rushing along boulders and rocks.

When they near it, Baekhyun pauses and takes off his shoes, rolling up his pant legs. And then, he steps out into the water until he can sit on one of the larger, flatter rocks in the middle of the current. Taeyong mirrors him, coming to sit on the stone just a few minutes later. “Is it hard leaving everything behind, at least, for as permanently as you have?” Taeyong wonders.

Even if he passes the trials, he’ll always be able to go down and visit Khiti Khi. Baekhyun’s made it sound like he left Koyé behind completely, even when it _was_ still standing.

“I suppose that depends on _who_ you leave,” Baekhyun says. “I left my parents, but I knew my brother would take care of them. And once I passed the trials… well I didn’t feel much like going back. So, I guess it wasn’t hard once I’d left.”

Taeyong already knows that leaving in the first place is the hard part.

The conversation lulls, coming to a gentle stop. Then, “Have you changed your mind about Yukhei?” Taeyong asks, curious now.

Baekhyun cocks his head, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth. “Not really. The same reasons I had for not wanting to choose him are still weaknesses I see in his character right now, but… he’s picking up on things quickly.” He pauses, thinking. “I won’t really know if he’s grown from my judgement until the fourth trial and all those after it.”

Taeyong nods. “Did you lie about the number of elk you caught?”

Baekhyun grins. “That’s not for you to know,” he says, ruffling Taeyong’s hair. “You should head back to the tent, soon. It’s late and you’re going to have a long day of training ahead of you.”

“It’s not group training, so you could always just—“

“I’m a good mentor, Taeyong. I’m not gonna have you lazing around because you stayed up all night chatting with me,” Baekhyun admonishes with a grin. “Head home. Get a few more hours in.”

Taeyong groans, rolling his eyes, but rises from his seat anyway. “What if I don’t know the way back?”

“As if,” Baekhyun snorts. Taeyong laughs, picking up his shoes in hand, and begins the trek back, a smile plastered to his face all the while.

When he returns to the tent, he finds that Yukhei’s awake, braiding a tassel together. He looks up at Taeyong’s entrance. “Where did you and Baekhyun go?” He seems hurt, his eyebrows knit, his eyes searching.

“We went for a walk. Just talked a little bit about our families. Not a whole lot.” Taeyong cleans his feet of dirt, then changes out of his clothes, crawling under the blankets and furs. “I think he wanted some alone time, but I caught him off guard.”

“He seems too nice to turn you away,” Yukhei agrees.

“I would have woken you up, but I figured you’d want to sleep. If it was a practice or anything, I definitely would have.”

He watches Yukhei’s expression soften. “I know that. Sorry, I was just curious. I didn’t think either of you would leave me out.” He lays back down, facing Taeyong. “I do have a question for you though.”

“Oh?” Taeyong raises a brow, searching Yukhei’s gaze. “What is it?”

“Baekhyun said you completed your good deed back in Khiti Khi. What was it?” He asks.

Taeyong pauses. The good deed was, without a doubt, agreeing to be chosen only if Yukhei was _also_ chosen. But Taeyong already knows that it’ll be a blow to Yukhei’s confidence if he admits that. Because even if Taeyong knew Yukhei was capable… it tells him Baekhyun didn’t think the same. At least, originally. And Yukhei needs to trust Baekhyun just as Taeyong does.

“I think it was probably letting you join my _lawú_ ,” Taeyong says. It’s a good lie because it’s a partial truth. Even if Baekhyun hadn’t chosen Yukhei, that would have been a good thing to do.

Yukhei nods, grinning. “Probably,” he agrees. A beat later, “Thank you again for letting me join. I really dreamed of getting chosen and I think that’s what gave me my chance.”

Taeyong smiles, ruffling Yukhei’s hair comfortingly. “I’d do it again, don’t worry. You deserved to be chosen.”

When they fall asleep that night, they do so holding hands. For whatever reason, it makes Taeyong feel as warm as he would be sat next to a fire.

***

Contrary to what Baekhyun had said about a rigorous day of training, he’s not around the next day. And when Taeyong and Yukhei go looking for him, Jongdae catches them and tells them he’s helping with the dismissals. So, Taeyong and Yukhei are left with a free day.

Taeyong immediately goes to fetch Yeri and Sooyoung, both of whom have yet to check out the Ocean of Saw. They get along well with Yukhei, though, and so, when they all begin practicing swimming in the water, things go well. They trust Taeyong and Yukhei just enough to hold onto them for the first few minutes in which they have to familiarize themselves with the wailing water, but after that, it’s like playing in the pond with friends.

Ten even joins them, already acclimated to the water from his practices with Jongin.

“Do you think we could just try and dive for the tears now?” Ten says when the sun is a few hours from setting, but far enough past noon as for everyone to be lazy and tired from the day.

“What _are_ the tears, anyway?” Taeyong asks. “Baekhyun never really explained them.”

Ten motions out to the center of the sea. “According to Jongin, the tears are these huge diamonds at the bottom of the ocean. They’re hard to find though.”

“I imagine,” Taeyong says.

“The water’s as black as night _all_ the time,” Yukhei groans, splashing it into the air as though to prove a point. Everyone laughs.

Yeri floats atop the waves. “Irene mentioned that she’s going to accompany me on it, maybe that’s the catch?”

Sooyoung nods, “Seulgi said the same. I think you _have_ to have a Yokae’s help for this one. Do you think they can see underneath the water?”

“Maybe their magic helps to find the tears?” Taeyong supposes. “Baekhyun never said anything about it being easier for the Yokae to swim in this thing, _and_ he seems kind of blind when _he_ dives.”

“That’s probably it,” Yukhei says. “Since the ocean’s magic and all.”

Ten shrugs, “I think I might just try to do it tomorrow, then. We can do it anytime this week, right?”

Taeyong nods. “I might join you, just to get it over with. Are you feeling up for it, Yukhei?”

Yukhei nods.

Neither Sooyoung or Yeri agree. “I think we’ll wait a little longer,” Yeri says. “Practice some more. Y’all have been swimming here for a couple of weeks now, right?”

They nod.

“Yeah, then we’ll give it some time. But, we’ll come watch, cheer you on or whatever,” Yeri continues. Sooyoung snorts, but echoes her statement, eyes glittering.

Later, when they return to the tent, Baekhyun’s sat outside cooking. Taeyong eyes the meat, but it looks seasoned correctly. Even the rice looks cooked well. When he serves himself, though, he finds that some has burned the bottom of the pot. “I was just about to say you got better at cooking and then—“

“Ah-ah,” Baekhyun says, holding up a finger. “I cooked, you’re _not_ allowed to critique.”

Yukhei grins happily, scooping up some rice for his bowl as well as some of the meat Baekhyun had cooked. He takes a bite. “It’s not that bad.”

“You could just say it’s good~” Baekhyun singsongs, glaring daggers. But it’s all in jest. “Did the two of you have fun doing whatever you did today?”

“We went swimming,” Taeyong tells him.

“With Yeri, Sooyoung, and Ten,” Yukhei adds.

“We think we want to try our hand at the challenge tomorrow,” Taeyong continues, spooning some rice in his mouth.

Baekhyun raises a brow, curious. “You feel prepared?”

“As ever,” Yukhei says with a shrug. “I mean, we both know how to swim _and_ we’re used to the magic now, so I don’t see what else there is to learn.”

“You have to dive,” Baekhyun says. “How good is your breath control?”

“No one’s breath control is good enough to dive that deep on a single breath,” Taeyong reasons (because he _has_ given it some thought). “I bet there’ll be something that lets us breathe under the water.”

Baekhyun reaches over and flicks Taeyong’s necklace. “You’re right, but if you think it’ll be easy to dive tomorrow and trust that magic, then you’re wrong. It’s scary letting water into your lungs.” He shrugs. “You’re sharp though, I’m kind of impressed you thought about it.”

“Did you… not?”

“I realized when I was already twenty meters down,” Baekhyun says with a grin. “My mentor told me it was about trust and since they didn’t stop me or anything, I just… assumed I’d be all right. I _did_ have a minor crisis once I noticed, though.”

“Dear _god_ ,” Yukhei mutters.

Taeyong echoes him. “Well, good thing we know now. I’m _not_ having a panic attack down at the bottom of the ocean.”

Baekhyun laughs. “The actual issue is the pressure, but don’t worry—just trust me.”

“All right,” they both agree. They discuss some more to do with the trial, but then the rest of dinner just progresses over numerous jokes and gentle jibes. It’s the fun type that’s easy, lax, and carefree. Taeyong enjoys it greatly, and he can see that Yukhei does too.

And after dinner, they just sit around the fire, chatting and sharing. Yukhei tells Baekhyun about his family, about dancing at the Academy, and about his dreams of becoming Yokae. Then, they talk about how they became friends, sharing embarrassing story after embarrassing story, but Baekhyun seems to enjoy it, his eyes sparkling, his laughter undying.

When everything winds down, Baekhyun rises and tells them he’s going to visit with his friends.

Taeyong’s tired though, and says as much. “I think I’m going to head to sleep, you?”

Yukhei shakes his head. “I’m going to go check out some of the other fires. I’ll let you know if I hear anything cool, though,” he says. He helps Taeyong clean up the campfire though (the cook doesn’t have to help, hence Baekhyun’s departure), and then holds the tent flap open for him.

Alone, it’s harder to fall asleep, but he _is_ tired, so it comes eventually.

He’s roused only a few hours later by the sound of Yukhei crawling into the tent.

Still half-asleep, Taeyong holds out a hand. Yukhei takes it, cocking his head, then laughs with an _oompf_ as Taeyong tugs him over to cuddle, wrapping Yukhei’s arm over his shoulders. “You need sleep,” Taeyong mutters blearily.

Yukhei grins. Taeyong can feel it by the way his chin moves, Yukhei’s head being perched at the top of his head. “Yeah,” Yukhei agrees. “Are you good?”

“Perfect,” Taeyong mutters, snuggling closer.

Yukhei’s arms tighten around him.

When he falls asleep this time, it’s easy.

The morning is not the same.

He’s so tangled up in the blankets and _Yukhei_ that he has what he’d only classify as a _minor_ panic. He manages to detangle himself, but not without waking Yukhei. “Did you sleep well?” Yukhei asks, blinking away sleep.

Taeyong nods, at a loss. “Yeah. Did you?” It was probably uncomfortable since Taeyong was laying in Yukhei’s arm and—

“Yep,” Yukhei says easily. He flops onto his back. “You were cute,” he says openly, honestly, without a shame in the world. Not that Taeyong _expects_ him to be ashamed, he’s just…

“Me? Cute?”

“Sure,” Yukhei says, blinking. “I am too, right?”

Taeyong lets out a breathless little laugh. “I mean, yeah, but—“ he cuts himself off. “I didn’t expect that, sorry.” He looks around the tent, sloughing off the awkwardness of having been all cuddled up with his friend (not that it’s never happened, just… something felt different about this time). “Where’s Baekhyun?”

“Don’t know,” Yukhei says. “Just woke up.”

Taeyong snorts. “I’m gonna go look for him; feel free to sleep in.”

“If you wait a little longer, I’ll come join you,” Yukhei says, sitting up. He rubs his eyes. “Just give me a moment to wake up.”

Taeyong nods, getting dressed and leaving the tent. He loiters around outside of it, though, waiting for Yukhei to emerge. And, when he does, they both set out looking around camp. Yukhei manages to talk a campfire into giving them some fish for breakfast, and so, while they eat, they search.

Baekhyun’s no where to be found _inside_ the campground, where all the tents are, but as they look around the field, Taeyong catches sight of his orangey-red tiger’s pelt. He’s laid out across the rocks, sunning happily. “There he is,” Taeyong says, pointing.

Yukhei follows his gaze and then they begin to walk over.

Baekhyun shifts once they’re near. “Took you two long enough to wake up. I thought you went to sleep early?”

Yukhei snorts. “Taeyong did, but I stayed out a while longer.”

“I see,” Baekhyun says. He sits up, cracking his knuckles. “So, are you ready for the trial?”

Taeyong shrugs, “Now?”

“Why not?”

“Well, _I’m_ not opposed,” Yukhei says.

And that’s how they find themselves at the black-water’s edge just a few minutes later. Baekhyun’s waved a judge—a Yokae named Yoona—over to see that they’re performing the task properly. She explains the different directions and rules expected for the task, but doesn’t spend too long on it. This, more than any other task is likely to be fairly straight-forward. _Dive, find the Tear, and surface once more_.

Should be easy, enough.

Yoona finishes her spiel and steps away, walking back up the beach and taking a seat in the sand. Taeyong returns his gaze to the ocean at hand, staring at it with only a touch of apprehension.

Baekhyun’s hand lands on his shoulder, squeezing comfortingly. “Are the two of you going to want me to dive _with_ you?” He asks.

Both of them nod, eyes wide. “What do you—“

“I have to ask,” Baekhyun clears up. “It’s custom.” He directs their gaze back to the water, pushing gently on their backs. “Let’s get to it, then, I’ll be right behind you.”

Yukhei wades out first, trudging out into the water. Taeyong follows right behind him. As always, Saw’s Ocean is cold—it bites at his skin and raises goosebumps all down his flesh. But, he adjusts quickly. That’s what their practice had been for. To prepare themselves for the ocean’s strange manner.

“Are you ready?” Yukhei asks, once they’re deep enough to be treading water rather than standing with their feet touching the floor. Just a few lengths ahead of them, there is a drop, where the ocean floor falls away into the inky black abyss. Baekhyun had shown them it only once, and had warned them of the current.

Taeyong glances behind him. Baekhyun’s there, a safe distance away. He’s neither right with them, nor too far to step in.

He feels a twinge of comfort and returns his gaze to Yukhei’s, nodding. “Yeah. On three?”

Yukhei grins and holds out his hand. For the initial dive, they’ll want to be sure they stay together.

Taeyong starts the count. “One.”

“Two.”

“Three.”

They dive, the ocean erupting into sound all around them. They do not pause, though. The cold is great, and the wailing alarming, but again, they have practiced. Taeyong feels _confident_. Yukhei tugs on his hand, swimming for the drop off. Taeyong kicks out his legs, scooping away water with his free hand, and begins swimming in the same direction.

It takes only a few seconds before they feel the pull, like a great inky hand coming up from the unknown. It grabs first onto their pants and then, their limbs, dragging them down _,_ down, _down_.

There is a minute, when Taeyong’s lungs squeeze, his breath running out, that he panics.

But as his fear begins to rise up and crest, he feels Baekhyun’s magic pulse at his throat—where his necklace sits. Taeyong remembers what he’d said: _they can breathe with its help_.

That said, the thought of sucking in a breath, when he is caught in the current and sinking so quickly into the depth… it’s terrifying.

He holds out as long as he can, vision turning fuzzy, grip on Yukhei’s hand loosening, before he takes that desperately needed breath.

Water rushes down his throat, but it does not choke. It seems to turn to air as soon as it arrives in his lungs, cold and clear and burning—but air nonetheless.

Yukhei squeezes his hand, and then, releases it. Taeyong’s eyes widen, and he makes to shout, but only bubbles come out. Even so, the wailing of the ocean would have made it impossible for Yukhei to hear him.

Hands come to rest on his shoulders, comforting, grounding. They’re Yukhei’s. He swims close, bringing his face close enough that Taeyong can see him through the darkness, though only barely. They’ve reached a depth where the sunlight barely penetrates—if at all.

Baekhyun’s no where to be seen, though his magic can be felt quite clearly. He could be right behind them, watching carefully, or back at the surface for all they know.

Taeyong shakes the anxiety that bubbles at that thought.

 _Confidence_.

He meets Yukhei’s gaze, and then, tips his chin down, towards the floor of the sea. It’s an unspoken question: dive for their tears and then swim back to the surface? But that question comes with a fear.

Baekhyun had told them it was best that they swim along the floor of the sea with their hands feeling along the sand. The tears—according to him—were scattered. Some near each other, some others all alone on the bottom of the floor.

Once he and Yukhei separate, that’s it. They have to trust that the other’s going to make it back to the surface with their tear.

Yukhei grins and then, pushes away from Taeyong. Taeyong doesn’t imagine he swims very far away, probably only an arm’s length, and yet, he’s disappeared.

And Taeyong’s back on his lonesome, the ocean’s frigidness doing nothing to calm his pounding heart.

He dives until his hands touch the sandy, rocky bottom of the sea. Then, he begins to feel along the floor, praying to the gods that he’ll come across a tear quickly.

The longer Taeyong stays at the bottom of the ocean, the colder it seems to get. He feels as though his skin is turning numb (his fingers most _definitely_ are), his eyes burn, and his lungs moreso.

Just as he’s dismissing his concerns about the temperature, the ocean goes _silent_.

There is not a sound.

Saw is not a goddess known for her generosity. _No_. She is a goddess known for a stormy temper, for cruel, wicked strikes that come without warning. She is the Sky, aloof and unforgiving, cold and cruel.

Taeyong’s hand brushes against something in the dark. He’s quick to grab it and tug it closer so that he can see what it is. It is sluggish to pull, as though attached to something or perhaps, half buried. Similarly, it doesn’t feel tear-shaped, in his humble opinion, but he _is_ curious.

When he finally gets a look at it in the inky darkness, he screams and jerks away, trying to let go of the skeletal hand he’d grabbed.

Its boney fingers clasp around his wrist, and with the strength of a living man, drags him _down_ , into the sand.

Taeyong scrambles, gasping, panicking. He’d not had _any_ warning about this.

He kicks at the skeleton, detaching its hand from the joint, and shoves off the bottom, floating up into the open sea again. He pauses there, eyes fluttering shut, and regains his breath, controlling himself. He’s _afraid_ , but he’s not stuck here forever.

 _Just get the tear_.

But, there’s a thought sitting at the back of his head.

_Where’s Yukhei?_

And attached to that, _where’s Baekhyun?_

Because if he and Yukhei have been swimming _away_ from one another, then Baekhyun will have had to choose who he’d follow.

That’s a thought far colder than the ocean.

As though the ocean had heard him, it whispers his doubt back to him: _he left you_. It’s followed by another: _you are lost_. And another: _Yukhei has already surfaced. They are_ both _gone._

Taeyong blinks. _No_ … they would not leave him. Even if Yukhei has surfaced, that only means Baekhyun will come back down for him. This, if nothing else, _strengthens_ his resolve. He dives back towards the floor, feeling along it as he’d done before. The ocean continues to whisper his doubts back at him, its volume gradually increasing until _that_ is what it wails about it.

His hand closes around something sharp, rugged. He brings it close to his face, _begging_ that this is the one, and finds that the clear, tear shaped gem almost seems to _glint_ , a magical ribbon running across its planes.

Taeyong grins, sets both feet on the bottom of the ocean, and pushes off, swimming up, up, _up_.

He struggles with the current as he nears the surface, where the light almost manages to penetrate, but a hand wraps around his waist and powers him forward.

He and Baekhyun surface at the same time.

Baekhyun’s grinning, water dripping from his hair. “Swim back to shore, you passed!” He says. “I have to go back down for Yukhei. He’s in a pretty empty spot, so it’ll probably be a while longer.”

Without any further celebration, Baekhyun’s diving, shifting mid dive so that his paws can propel him down towards the sea bottom.

Taeyong makes no move to swim to shore, though, remaining where he is, treading water. He doesn’t want to leave Yukhei, and he’ll wait as long as he can. After all, he’d have liked for the same treatment. The minutes tick by, the sun rising across the sky.

It hits high noon.

Yukhei surfaces; Baekhyun just a second after. They’re both grinning.

Yukhei holds up his tear, showing it to Taeyong, who does the same, mirroring the action with an open-mouthed grin.

 _This_ —beating his doubts, surviving his fears— _is victory_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! The next update is **December 14th!**


	3. High Noon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I took embarrassingly long to update. Please forgive me; see the end notes for a better idea of what's going on re:updates~
> 
> I hope you enjoy what I've written for you, all the same ♥︎ Please re-check the fic's tags, because of the rewrite I had to do of this chapter, I think I may have to add a couple new ones~

Admittedly, neither he nor Yukhei had realized they would not be allowed to stay in Ki upon passing the third trial. Baekhyun almost immediately whisks them away, back to the mountain, to climb to the next level: Chopí. However, because their packing is immediate, neither of them get to wait for Ten to complete his dive, nor do they get to reassure Sooyoung and Yeri about it.

It is as though one moment, they stand in the familiar fields, and the next, they are back to trekking. It is such a sudden change that Taeyong’s reminded much of what it had been like to leave Khiti Khi. A lot all at once.

This time, though, he’s not as anxious. Baekhyun talks to them during the hike, tells them about the landscape as well as what can be expected ahead.

“Chopí is a woodland all across the level,” Baekhyun explains. “Dry forest mostly, though there’s a few boggy spots. Because the canopy is so dense, though, very little light reaches the ground. It’s… spooky,” he continues. With a grin,he adds, “Nothing like the hike.” And he’s right, because the hike is _gorgeous_.

Taeyong’s still sticking close to the inside wall, but even he can look out over the cliff and appreciate what he can see. They’re high enough that the fields on Ki seem small, the campfires and tents even smaller, and beyond them Khiti Khi appears like a doll-house more than it does the Golden City at the Base of the Mount.

“Is there going to be another campsite in Chopí?” Yukhei wonders. As the path widens into a small clearing, he pauses to sit and rest. Taeyong takes the opportunity to do the same.

Baekhyun makes a so-so gesture with his hand. “Not _quite_. In Ki we had a campsite with everyone else. It’s important then, for everyone to get a chance to meet and get comfortable. In Chopí we’ll have a campsite on our lonesome. Mostly because from now on the trials are at your own pace.”

Taeyong worries his lips between his teeth. “Does that mean we won’t see Ten again?”

“Not until we reach Wofa, which is the level just above the fog, and just below Yoto. Where the Yokae live.”

“And that’s assuming that we both make it there, in addition to Ten?” Yukhei asks for clarification’s sake.

Baekhyun nods. “I try to keep optimistic,” he says, smiling. “I think all three of you will manage to make it to the end, though these things are up to the gods in the end.” He shrugs and then, takes his pack from his shoulders. “Since you two are tired—“

Both of them protest, standing.

“—Why don’t we just set up camp here? We’re not in any rush to get to Chopí.” Baekhyun begins undoing the bedrolls. They’d not brought their tent (it was too large to break down and haul along), so all they have are some of the furs and deerskin palettes.

But, taking a rest, a genuine rest mid-way to Chopí sounds like a blessing. So, Taeyong drops his protests immediately and begins to unroll his own bedding, following Baekhyun’s directions about placing it near the wall to help shelter the elements.

Yukhei sits back down, taking off his pack, but doesn’t make to roll out his pallet, instead unlacing his boots.

So, Taeyong takes his bedroll too and sets it up next to his and Baekhyun’s, so that the three of them are all sheltered from the wind. When he’s done with that, Baekhyun’s already blowing life into a campfire, and Yukhei’s busy taking out the dried meat they’d wrapped and packed to bring to Chopí with them.

A half-hour later sees them all sat around the fire chewing on jerky. “So, what was it like at the bottom of the ocean for you, Yukhei?” Taeyong asks, cocking his head curiously.

Yukhei arches a brow, “What’d you mean?”

Slightly ruffled, Taeyong pauses eating. “Well, when I was alone, there was like this skeleton and the ocean started making me doubt myself and it was just… terrifying,” he says. “Did you not have the same?”

Yukhei shakes his head. Both of them turn to Baekhyun for an explanation.

He shrugs, “I don’t know. Whenever I’ve swam it’s been normal. I mean, like, as normal as Saw’s Ocean gets. You might have swum close to a place where the magic is more volatile?”

“Maybe,” Taeyong murmurs, at a loss. Still, it doesn’t detract from his feelings of accomplishment, if anything, it earns them more resolve. “Is there going to be anything like that in Chopí?”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know, something illusory or like… tricky. Are the tasks going to _try_ and talk me out of completing them, or?” Taeyong wonders.

“Oh. Yeah, there’s some more like that,” Baekhyun says. “Actually, Chopí in general is going to be kind of loud? Like, I know I described it as quiet before, but that’s because the spirits keep away from me.” He continues,“The spirits start to speak more the higher you go. They can take some getting used to, especially since they’re not all… kind? They’ll sow doubt wherever they can.”

“So, what? Do we just ignore them?” Yukhei asks.

“They’ll stay away from the campfire, so when we go to sleep they shouldn’t be a problem. Otherwise, yes, normally I’ll tell you to ignore them. Rarely though, they’ll have good advice. You just have to know how to pick it out.”

“And how’s that,” Taeyong wonders.

Baekhyun shrugs, grinning sheepishly. “If I knew, I’d tell you.”

“You’re the worst~” Yukhei singsongs. “You’re supposed to be our wisened old mentor full of good advice.”

“That’d be boring,” Baekhyun says, eyes sparkling. “Isn’t it so much more fun like this?” He motions all around them. “God, if you two had one of the older mentors… I can tell you we’d still be hiking right now.” He glances back at Taeyong, their gazes linking. “You’re _lucky_ to have me,” he purrs.

Taeyong looks away, breaking eye contact with a wheeze.

“You all right?” Yukhei asks, clapping a hand on his back.

“Fine,” Taeyong chokes, clearing his throat and resuming the semblance of normalcy. He chances another glance at Baekhyun only to see him grinning, an affectionate, amused glint in his eye.

The sun’s beginning to set, so Taeyong takes the time to wash his hands with a canteen and return to his bed palette. He strips off his tunic but leaves his pants—figuring he’ll be cold come night. Yukhei and Baekhyun both watch him, but neither seem ready to go to sleep yet, so they remain awake, talking.

“I’ve heard a little about Taeyong’s family, but what about yours?” Baekhyun wonders, tone curious and warm.

“I have a younger brother,” Yukhei tells him. “He wants to travel, so he’s going to be the book-keeper for caravan that comes through the city. I left before I could see him off, though.” He shrugs, smiling wistfully. “I’d have liked to have said a better goodbye.”

“I understand,” Baekhyun says. “Sometimes it’s nice to leave things to the wind, though. Makes it easier to pick up as though nothing’s happened when you two _do_ reunite.”

“You think so?”

Baekhyun nods.

“I don’t know. I like steadfast things. I like closure,” Yukhei says, poking at the fire with a stick. “I don’t like to leave things unsaid or anything. It’s nice to know exactly what is going on, exactly what will happen. I think a farewell helps to grant that closure.”

“Perhaps.”

“Did you have someone you left behind?”

“No,” Baekhyun says. “At least, not anyone I needed to go back to. I prefer to keep my attention here, amongst my found family, if that make’s sense?” He shrugs and then, makes his way to his bed pallet. “Either way, it’s late. We ought to get some sleep. Tomorrow, we’ll reach Chopí.”

Yukhei frowns, looks like he would like to ask Baekhyun more about himself, but breaks down the fire until it is only smoldering embers anyway. Then, he crawls into his bed, pulling a bear-fur up over his body. In the darkness, his eyes find Taeyong’s.

They don’t say anything, but both of them move to reach out and clasp each other’s hands together.

Only then do they fall asleep.

***

When Taeyong wakes, he does so with his arm strewn over Yukhei’s side and their legs all tangled together. It’s warm, but it also gets Taeyong’s heart to stutter, his breath coming out in a soft, nervous sigh. The last time he’d felt nervous like this was when he was in love with Ten, but that crush had taken to the wind and no longer sings to him.

 _This_ , though. _Affection for Yukhei_ … it’s not new, but it’s the first time Taeyong’s really _felt_ it like _this_.

He sits up, delicately removing Yukhei’s arms from around him, but remains on the bedding—rubbing his eyes free of sleep and yawning as he wakes.

Then, when he looks up, he meets Baekhyun’s gaze.

Much in the same way, Taeyong’s heart stops for a beat and then restarts. “Good morning,” he says, keeping his voice down and soft.

Baekhyun smiles and looks away, breaking the spell. “Morning,” he murmurs, voice raspy in the morning. “Wake him up soon so we can eat and get moving,” he says, standing from where he’d been poking at the fire.

“Where are you going?” Taeyong asks, cocking his head.

“There’s a spring near here, I’m gonna go wash up. I’ll be back in an hour,” Baekhyun says.

Taeyong makes to protest, but Baekhyun’s already leaving, a playful grin on his face. Left alone, he looks back down at Yukhei—who’s remained asleep throughout their short conversation. For a moment, he just… _gazes_ at him, takes the time to appreciate him and to notice the things he’s never had the time—nor excuse—to really look at.

“What’re you looking at?” Yukhei murmurs, cracking open an eye.

Taeyong starts embarrassingly. “You,” he says, like he’s joking. He’s been caught anyway, so there’s no use in lying. “Baekhyun went to go bathe,” he says, noticing how Yukhei looks around confusedly.

“Ah, should we join him then?”

Taeyong splutters. “I don’t even know where he is.”

Yukhei shrugs and starts getting up. He grabs a towel from their pack and motions for Taeyong to do the same. “I’m sure it won’t be _hard_ to find him,” he tries, looking around.

Taeyong frowns, but he unpacks a towel as well, slinging it over his shoulder. “He went that way,” he says, pointing to the spot Baekhyun had climbed into the underbrush.

So, that’s the way they go—mostly just picking along and hoping for the best. But as they walk, they come to hear Baekhyun’s voice—melodic and delightful—as he sings on his lonesome. Yukhei calls out and the song stops.

Then, “I’m over this way!” Baekhyun calls.

Taeyong raises a brow and follows the voice. Yukhei parts a cluster of tree branches and… well, they’ve arrived. It’s a small spring, but seems large enough to be able to fit them all. Baekhyun stands near the edge, where the water is just over waist-deep, washing his hair.

“Where’d you get soap?” Taeyong asks dumbly, since that’s the first question that comes to mind. He drops his towel next to Yukhei’s on a rock, following him into the water. It’s still cold from the twilight, will be a few hours yet before the sun manages to warm it up. But, it’s not bothersome, not after experiencing the cold of the sea.

“Packed it with me?” Baekhyun answers, raising a brow. He points to a bar of lye soap and a couple of glass bottles filled with an oily sort of liquid. Taeyong uncaps one curiously and finds it to be a scented oil—this one pine, like Baekhyun’s typical scent. Before either of them can ask, Baekhyun say, “I don’t mind sharing. Come here.”

Yukhei wades over to him, letting Baekhyun spin him around gently. Then, Baekhyun’s smoothing his soapy hands over Yukhei’s back and shoulders, easing out tension as he does so. Taeyong watches, momentarily shocked into a stupor. Then, he regains himself and sinks deeper into the water, happy to watch until it’s his turn.

Only for Yukhei to pull him back up. “I’ve got hands too,” he says, grinning as he soaps them up and brings them to Taeyong’s skin. “Don’t have to be the odd one out.”

Baekhyun snorts at the little wheeze of agreement Taeyong lets out.

Both of them put him out of his element, and Taeyong’s only now realizing how apparent it is.

“So, when did you wake up, Yukhei?” Baekhyun wonders, his voice floaty and curious. “Because when I left you were still knocked out.”

“Only a few minutes after you left, I think. Could feel Taeyong staring at me.”

“I was _not—“_

“Were _too_ ,” Yukhei snipes back.

Baekhyun cocks his head. “Taeyong’s only fond of you… it makes sense that he’d stare,” he soothes them both over. “You mean a lot to him. Doesn’t he, Taeyong?” And there’s something in his tone that makes Taeyong think he _knows_. Something that makes Taeyong feel laid bare, all his affection opened up to the world.

“He does~” Taeyong says, voice thin, whispery.

Yukhei hears him though and squeezes Taeyong’s shoulders comfortingly. “He means a lot to me too,” Yukhei replies back to Baekhyun. “We’ve been friends for a long time.”

Taeyong nods and pictures the first time they’d met. It had been at the river. Ten introduced the two of them because they needed _at least_ three people in order to play a game of tag. Then, all three of them had joined the Kokhi Academy, so after that, separation was out of the question.

It’s odd now to be without Ten. When they were younger, Yukhei was the buffer between Taeyong and him, but now, Taeyong wonders when that changed. When it was that _Ten_ became the buffer between the other two.

“And hopefully you’ll stay friends for a while longer,” Baekhyun breathes, retracting his hands from Yukhei’s back so that he can wade into the deeper water and rinse off. Yukhei follows him, tugging Taeyong with him.

When they’re all chest deep in the water, they simply sit. Baekhyun perches his arm on the ledge of the pool and rests his head on it, looking the picture of relaxation and calm.

But Yukhei… Yukhei looks to Taeyong with a gaze Taeyong can’t even begin to decipher.

They don’t speak. Yukhei just sets about washing Taeyong’s hair for him, massaging the soap into his scalp. His ministrations have Taeyong’s eyes fluttering shut, a sigh seeping from his parting lips.

And then he smiles, because this is _nice_. It’s the first _genuine_ break he’s felt since the trials began. There’s no expectation here. Just wash and be washed. There’s something so mundane, so domestic, so gentle about it all…

He’s loathe to leave the spring maybe an hour later, Baekhyun coaxing them all out with promises of a warm tent in Chopí. They towel off, get dressed again, and then set back out on the hike—Baekhyun leading them while Taeyong and Yukhei trudge along shoulder-to-shoulder.

If they end up holding hands half-way along, well then that’s for them to know and no one else.

***

Chopí is like Baekhyun described in that it’s mysteriously dark, overgrown, and arcane. The first few steps onto the level aren’t all that different _apart_ from that pervading darkness, yet that feeling of uncanny normalcy does not last. Perhaps half an hour after they go through the archway into Chopí, Taeyong starts to understand why Baekhyun had described the place as spooky.

For the voices have begun to sing through the gaps between the trees and the shadows seem to twist and turn and run amok in Taeyong’s peripherals. Despite being in the forest, there is no birdsong, no sound of animals, just thatstrange hoarse, human (though barely) whispering and singing.

It reminds him of Saw’s Ocean, though here, the sound is not as affronting, not as powerful or as barbed. Here it just… exists.

“People go mad here,” Baekhyun says, as though he knows what both Yukhei and Taeyong are thinking about the place. “The spirits are too loud.” He motions around them, and, at the wave of his hand, magic seems to ripple in pursuit—revealing the faint blues and purples of human spirits clinging to the shadows beneath the canopies.

When Baekhyun lowers his hand again, they disappear, flickering out like candle flames. Their voices are still there, though.

“Like I said,” he begins, “the campfire will hold them at bay. It’ll be much quieter when we get to the tent.” Baekhyun seems fairly at ease as he walks, but even Taeyong can see the glimmerings of tension prickling between his shoulders.

“You’re not a fan of this place, are you?”

“Hm?” Baekhyun brows furrow. “I don’t have much of an opinion. Chopí is… supernatural to me. I find it equal parts mesmerizing and off-putting.” He shrugs. “The Fog, where I like to spend a lot of time is also a spirit realm. I like the dead.”

“Why?” Yukhei wonders.

“Because they have many stories to tell,” Baekhyun says. “Why else?” He turns back around, continuing to lead them through the wood.

It’s not for another hour that they slow down, finally approaching what Taeyong might consider a grove, for lack of a better word. He’s not sure _why_ they’re slowing down, since the thicket seems far too dense for a tent to be set up. Except that, just as he’s about to _ask_ , Baekhyun grips a low-hanging branch and holds it up, revealing a path.

He motions both of them to duck under and past the branch, which they do.

And this reveals what’ll be home for the next however many weeks, Taeyong imagines.

The clearing is strung with rope, from which a few simple lanterns hang—at the moment unlit. There is a fire pit in the middle of the clearing, paired with a couple of logs for seating—clearly carved and sanded down with care. And finally there is a building halfway between a tent and an actual cabin.

In that one wall, the entrance wall, is made of threaded fabric and furs, _but_ the rest of the building is crafted with wood or—in one side’s case, a natural rock-face—and in this way, it feels both sturdier, more permanent, than the tent in Ki, but also… still temporary.

It is still only a perch in the long flight ahead. Still only a passing place and nothing more.

“Did you build this place?” Yukhei asks, walking over and setting his packs down near the building.

Baekhyun snorts, “I had some help from friends. We rotate in and out of this place depending on who chooses a trainee and who doesn’t.” He crouches by the fire-pit and begins to work on lighting the branches already set up inside it. “Truthfully, I _do_ end up here the most. Jongdae’s not fond of Chopí nor is Chanyeol or Kyungsoo.”

Taeyong’s not familiar with all of those names, but he’s obviously able to draw the connections he needs. Chanyeol and Kyungsoo must be Yokae as well. And they must not have come to the Choosing this year.

Sure enough, once Baekhyun’s lit the fire, the sound of the spirits seems to disappear, first becoming a quiet whisper and then, nothing at all—drifting away on the breeze.

Taeyong drops his bag off next to the building and then goes to take a seat on one of the logs, sighing at the chance to relax. They’d walked most of the day, and given the sun will set soon, he can’t imagine them doing anything for the trials tonight. So… he’ll just… sit.

Baekhyun disappears inside the house and comes back with a pot and a bag of rice. He hands the rice off to Taeyong and then walks back into the thicket surrounding the clearing. When he returns, he does so with a pot full of water.

He sets the pot aside to soak the rice prior to putting it over the fire. In that time, he looks up and finds Yukhei happily rifling around inside the cabin. “Looking for something in particular?” Baekhyun asks, cocking his head with a grin. The look he shoots Taeyong is a _“Can you believe this guy?”_ sort of glance, and coupled with that smile, it makes Taeyong’s heart flutter.

“Nah, just having a look around. You use a bow?”

“Sometimes,” Baekhyun says. He has the shoulders for it, Taeyong notes.

Yukhei emerges with it gripped in hand. “What’s it made out of?” He asks, running his hand up the smooth ivory build.

Baekhyun’s grin widens. “Dragonbone.”

“Bullshit—dragons aren’t real,” Taeyong says immediately, unable to stop himself.

“You’re right,” Baekhyun says. “It’s gods-bone, which in my opinion, is way cooler.”

“Godsbone?”

“Bone of a god. They’re immortal for as long as they _want_ to be, and the Yokae are popular. We get a lot of gifts of that nature,” Baekhyun explains. “Jongdae has a pair of spears made out of the same thing.”

Yukhei hums in awe and goes to put the bow back where he’d found it.

Taeyong immediately looks to Baekhyun, eyes narrowed. “Is it _really_ what you say it is?”

“Nah~” Baekhyun singsongs, laughing. “It’s ivory from the forest in Yoto.” He presses a finger to his lips, “Let’s keep it our secret, though.”

Taeyong rolls his eyes, but nods all the same, finding it just a touch amusing. “You play too much, how’ll we know when you’re lying or not?”

“I never lie about serious things,” Baekhyun says without hesitation. “But things like that…” he shakes his head, “that’s just fun.”

Yukhei reappears. “What are y’all talking about?”

“The fourth trial,” Baekhyun says, winking at Taeyong. “Earlier, I said I can’t really help you with this one, but that’s not entirely true. I _can_ tell you where she lives.” He sets the pot over the flame, ever attentive of the many things he’s doing at once. “Some mentors will have their trainees search for her, but I think the trial’s difficult enough _without_ having to get lost in the woods.”

“So, where does she live?” Taeyong asks.

Baekhyun grins and reaches for one of the burning branches in the fire. He pulls it out and holds it aloft, the burning flame flickering in the wind. “Do you see which way the flame points?”

They nod.

“That’s the way to her. I’ll make sure both of you have torches for whenever you decide to go find her.”

“Isn’t the way it points dependent on the wind?” Taeyong cocks his head.

“The wind always blows towards her,” Baekhyun says with a shrug. “She’s the Witch of Chopí—I don’t really know _how_ it works, only that it does.” He tosses the stick back into the flame. “If you don’t believe me, you’re always welcome to go out hunting yourself, but I’m not allowed to lead you to her.”

Yukhei hums, “How soon can we go seek her out?”

“You could go tonight if you felt ready,” Baekhyun says. “I can’t train you for her trial. Some people like to wait and get familiar with Chopí; others go straight to her.”

Yukhei blinks at that, like he’s shocked at the prospect of being able to go out _tonight_. “Can I actually?”

Baekhyun nods. “Go for it. May want to head out before it’s too late. I’m not sure the witch sleeps, but…” He passes Yukhei one of the branches from the fire. “And, don’t worry about the forest, nothing lives here other than the spirits.”

Yukhei stands up, brushes his hands off on his pants, and grabs the torch. “Taeyong, want to come with?”

Taeyong hesitates.

“He’s not ready,” Baekhyun says noticing how Taeyong’s lost his voice. “I don’t want there to be a smidgen of doubt before either of you go.” Then, he reaches out and takes Yukhei’s hand, grasping it in his own. “Good luck. Remember that there are no tricks. Just do as she asks.”

Yukhei nods, and just like that, he’s walking from the thicket, following the flame.

“Can he really do that?” Taeyong mumbles, glancing back at Baekhyun, eyebrows furrowed with worry.

“Sure. Most people _don’t_ but if he’s confident, I don’t see why not.”

“How soon after you got here did _you_ go see her?”

“I spent months here,” Baekhyun says. “But, I saw her very early on. At least, as early as I could without knowing how to find her. My mentor… stopped helping me on our first night in Chopí, so it’s not like I had a lot of time to soak up advice.”

“Why did your mentor stop helping you?” Taeyong asks.

Baekhyun looks away, “I really don’t think it’s—“

“It clearly still influences you—whatever happened—and you’re the person guiding me through these trials,” Taeyong says. “I’ve already shared with you _my_ worries of failing out, of not having anything to go back to. I trust you, so why don’t you trust me?”

“I do,” Baekhyun says, but then he falls silent. In the emptiness, Taeyong focuses on the crackling of the fire, of the gentle howl of the wind through the trees. And he hopes, he really does _hope_ that Baekhyun will explain. That he’ll take that leap, that he’ll lay himself bare.

His patience wins out.

“My mentor fell in love,” Baekhyun explains. He’s still not looking at Taeyong. “I… loved them too, but not the way they wanted?” He finally meets Taeyong’s gaze. There are no tears, not even a hint of it. His face is just blank in a reserved, oddly serious sort of way. “I rejected them, so they rejected me. I completed every trial from the witch onward alone.”

“That takes a lot of strength.”

“It’s impossible,” Baekhyun says. “The _Yokae_ are a community. We have to bond. The trials are designed to honor that. So, when a Yokae rejects a bond—such as in the first trial, with those that fight—their trainee is doomed to fail out.”

“You said Lawt’aka pitied you.”

“She acted in my mentor’s stead,” Baekhyun explains. “In every trial that I had to have my mentor’s favor, she tipped the scales. She is the god of love. She understands.” He wrings his hands out and points to the pot of finished rice. “With that out of the way… dinner?”

Taeyong sees that he’s looking for an out, and he honors it, nodding. Baekhyun disappears to fetch them a couple of bowls and then comes back to serve out the dish. They pair it with the last of the jerky they’d packed. “I think I’ll go out foraging tomorrow,” Baekhyun says.

“Not hunting?”

“Nothing but the spirits here. The spirits and the plants. The fruit in Chopí is sweeter than anywhere else, even in Yoto.”

 _Yoto_ is the peak of the mountain. It is paradise. It is where the gods reside in their marble palaces, with the sun streaming across their skin and the moon reflecting off their eyes.

“Really?” Taeyong cocks his head. “Why’s that?”

Baekhyun shrugs, “This is one of the more human levels of the mount, oddly enough. We still remember what it’s like to eat and drink here, even among the dead. Wofa is similar, but because there’s game there, the fruits never ripen perfectly.”

 _Huh_. It makes sense. Somewhat.

They lapse into a quiet, eating their dinner. The air’s not tense, though, even with the secret Baekhyun’s shared. If anything, Taeyong feels like a weight’s been _lifted_ from their shoulders. If anything, he feels like he’s beginning to know Baekhyun—to recognize where he feels he’s fallen short.

“Do you think he’ll do well with the witch?” Taeyong finally asks; the question’s been brewing in his mind since Yukhei left.

Baekhyun hums. “I think of all the trials, this is the one where he will excel. It’s the next three that are going to challenge him.”

“Are you going to tell us about those?”

“Not until you’ve both completed the witch’s task.”

Taeyong falls quiet again, thinking. “Should I go see her tomorrow?”

“There’s no rush,” Baekhyun says, turning to him. His gaze is serious, even if his face is relaxed and easy-going. “I’m serious about only going to see her once you feel confident. Her trial’s the most cut and dry in that there’s not much you can do to swing her decision, but if you psyche yourself out, you’ll fail it for sure.”

Taeyong nods. “Do I have to tell you before I go?”

Baekhyun shakes his head. “No, not if you don’t want to. I’ll know if you fail or pass, so it doesn’t matter what you tell me or don’t.” He sets his bowl to the side and relaxes, clasping his hands in his lap. “If you planned to stay up to welcome Yukhei back, I’ll have to suggest you don’t. It’s going to be a few hours, I imagine.”

“Oh,” Taeyong says. “Then, yeah, I guess I’ll head to bed.”

Baekhyun gets up to show him inside the cabin. It’s simple, with one side built to accommodate storage and shelving and knick-knacks, and the other side built with a large, feathered mattress. Furs and pelts lie strewn across it. Additionally, it’s large enough for all three of them to sleep in it without their limbs touching.

Taeyong spreads out the furs he’d brought from Ki and unlaces his shirt and pants.

Baekhyun’s footsteps retreat from the room as he goes back out to the fire.

In the dark, Taeyong worries for Yukhei, but not for long. Worry is an exhausting state of mind, and he quickly falls asleep.

***

He wakes up while it’s still dark outside to the sound of Yukhei and Baekhyun both making their way inside. Even in the twilight, Taeyong can make out the smiles on their faces. “Success?” He asks, sitting up, sleep forgotten in lieu of hearing the outcome of Yukhei’s trial.

“Yeah,” he breathes, grinning like the sun. “She told me I could stay if I didn’t want to walk back in the dark, but… I had to come back and tell y’all.”

“Was it easy?” Taeyong wonders, eyes wide.

Yukhei nods, “For me it was. She just—“

“Ah-ah,” Baekhyun interjects. “You can’t tell him anything about it.” Baekhyun looks apologetic at least. “If he has expectations, he might not act as he should. This trial’s meant to be natural.”

Yukhei nods and reaches out to ruffle Taeyong’s hair soothingly. “Sorry, didn’t mean to tease. It was fine, though. I think you’ll do well with it too.” Then he draws back to undress and crawl into the bed of furs. Taeyong watches, uncharacteristically bold, and even guides Yukhei into the place next to him, already warmed by his having slept there.

Baekhyun hums, reaches out and pats Yukhei’s back once more in praise, and then pulls away, leaving the cabin to go back outside. Taeyong can see him silhouetted by the fire light, and as Yukhei lays his head down, wraps his arms around Taeyong, and draws him close, Taeyong watches Baekhyun shift and disappear.

“Was it really easy for you?” Taeyong asks again, curious and a little nervous. “Or were you just saying that because Baekhyun was around.”

“It really _was_ easy,” Yukhei murmurs. “Nothing like I expected.”

That thought rolls through Taeyong’s head long after he lays back to sleep. Flits about for so long that he doesn’t remember falling asleep after it.

But come morning, it’s apparent he _has_ slept. His bones are achey, his head groggy, and he doesn’t _feel_ well-rested, but he’s definitely been in dreamland for a fair amount of time. Yukhei’s not next to him, either, which is cue enough that Taeyong had lost consciousness—had he not had the other symptoms.

Taeyong yawns, blinking away sleep. In the morning quiet, it’s easy for him to hear both Yukhei _and_ Baekhyun’s voices. They’re talking at a normal volume, but given the faintness of sound, Taeyong assumes they’re not at the campsite itself, but rather somewhere near by. So, he gets dressed and goes out to find them.

Only to pause in the underbrush.

Yukhei and Baekhyun are in the river, washing and talking, grinning and laughing. They would no doubt welcome Taeyong to join them immediately. But… Taeyong’s curious, wants to know what else there is out in these woods. He wants to know where the witch is, even if he doesn’t plan to go and speak to her.

He hesitates a moment longer in the shade of the foliage and then turns away from the river to go back to the fire. The flames are smaller now, but the forest is still perpetually dark. So, when Taeyong picks up one of the branches, it still emits a strong enough glow as to light his path.

It also points in the direction of the witch’s cabin.

He sets off walking, feeling confident that Baekhyun and Yukhei will keep themselves busy for the next hour or so.

Alone, with only a single flame, Chopí’s voice begins to return. It comes first as whisper, and then at a volume akin to talking. Similarly, without Baekhyun walking alongside him, it seems the shadows on the ground get more daring, the flickering in the trees more apparent.

The farther he walks from the campsite, the more corporeal the spirits seem to get. Some walk alongside him, others merely watch him from their seats on the roots of trees, or from their spots standing in the gaps between trunks. At first, it’s off-putting. Taeyong is not fond of ghosts, even if he is not afraid of them. But, the longer he walks alongside them, the more natural it feels. The less _alone_ he feels.

“The spirits are fond of you, _Kisha Ki~”_ Comes a new voice. Despite the familiar nickname, it’s not Baekhyun who says it.

Taeyong looks away from the spirits, up ahead of him, where his flickering torch light dances in the same tune as an old woman’s lantern-light. “Who are you?” He says on reflex, taking a step back. He’d only wished to find the witch’s cabin, not to meet her in the flesh.

“You should thank them for walking with you,” the crone continues on, her voice rickety, yet strangely consuming. There’s something in her tone, in her manner that makes Taeyong feel as though she is not what she seems. That she is far more powerful than the image she takes on.

Taeyong thanks the spirits, brain catching up enough to tell him he shouldn’t refuse her advices.

The witch smiles. “Good boy. Now come along—“

“I’m not—“ Taeyong begins. “I’m not ready for the trial. I didn’t mean to—“

“I know. An invitation isn’t condemnation. Come, let’s have some tea and talk.” She waves him along, turning. Her lantern swings on the curve of her cane, but the hand that grips the wooden staff—while calloused and worn—is not a hand that matches the age of her face.

It is a youthful hand, one of a warrior, or a smith, or something more.

“What is your name?” Taeyong asks, following her. His fears have quieted, though only minimally, as he figures she will not lie to him.

“Ayu,” she says.

Taeyong frowns. _Ayu_ is not a name, but a word used to describe magic itself. In Khiti Khi, it’s considered a cursed name, one the gods find offensive and will lash out for. “Is that actually your name?”

“I am Ayu,” the witch says. He can see that she’s smiling, even though she walks ahead of him just a bit. “Nothing more and nothing less, _kisha ki_. You’re very curious, aren’t you?”

Taeyong nods, then quickly follows up with a verbal affirmation.

Ayu snorts. “Your mentor was like that, too. He asked all about the trials in his future. Didn’t think for a second that he would fail mine.”

“Well, he was right, wasn’t he?”

“Oh, certainly,” Ayu agrees. “He’s one of the few that comes back to check on me. He’s a golden heart, though sometimes he may not seem it.”

“What about me? Am I a golden heart?”

“Are you?” Ayu echoes back. “I don’t know a thing about you.” She glances at him, and for a brief second, Taeyong watches her eyes flash white-gold, like the sun. He blinks, and her eyes are back to their normal, deep brown color.

They continue to walk along the forest floor. Unlike when Taeyong had walked alone, and like when he’d been walking with Yukhei, the spirits grow even more numerous in the presence of the witch. Ayu reaches out to some of them, plucking things like herbs from their hands, and she pushes away others. But all of them seem to respect her like a friend, if not a parent.

Her cabin rises up in the near distance, lit by several lanterns. In her garden, a number of plants grow—fruit trees and flower bushes mostly, though there are even dead and dying plants. She notices Taeyong looking at them. “Everything needs a little care and cultivating, don’t you think?”

Taeyong nods, following her past the courtyard gate and inside the home.

It’s warm and _alive_. The air seems charged with magic and the paintings decorating the walls seem to watch him as he walks past. And yet, nothing about it is _off-putting_. Nothing about this place seems dangerous. Nothing is unwelcoming.

There is a stew waiting over a simmering fireplace. Ayu points to it in offering. “Would you like something to eat?”

“Yes, please,” Taeyong says. Having left so soon after waking up, he’d not taken the time to get anything to eat. He takes a seat on a pillow, waiting at a short-legged table while she spoons him some of her cooking. She brings it back and sets it in front of him.

It doesn’t escape his notice that she only pours herself a cup of tea, leaving the stew untouched.

“Does your mentor know you’re here?” Ayu asks.

Taeyong shakes his head, “No. Well, he may have noticed by now. I don’t normally go off on my own.”

“Then why today?”

“I wanted to know the way to yours, even though I’m not ready for the trial,” Taeyong says sheepishly, “I don’t like the unknown. Baekhyun’s not much help in that case.”

“He’s very _willing_ to leap into the unknown, but at heart he is as comforted by security and routine as you are,” Ayu reveals, taking a sip of her tea. “When he came to me as one of the Chosen, his security had been ripped from underneath him.”

“Is that why he stayed here for a long while?” Taeyong asks, remembering that Baekhyun had mentioned Chopí as the section of the trials he’d remained with longest.

“Yes. I mentored him for a time. Taught him about the trials ahead.”

“You can do that?”

“Who will tell me that I cannot?”

“The Gods?”

“The Gods haven’t a thing they can say to me,” Ayu replies calmly. Taeyong should have expected that. The longer he stays in her presence the more aware of her power, of her wit, he has become.

Taeyong nods, “Are you Yokae?”

“No.”

“Then, are you a god yourself?”

“No,” she says again, eyes sparkling with mirth. Something tells him that she is telling the truth. But, she is most certainly not human, nor is she a ghost, so he has nothing else to guess.

With that in mind, he drops the topic. “My friend Yukhei passed your trial last night.”

Ayu hums, nodding slowly, “He did.” She tips her tea-cup to-and-fro, mixing the tea leaves at the bottom of it. “He was a breath of fresh air. Not many of the Chosen come to see me so soon after arriving here. And of those, very few pass.” She smiles, “Did he tell you anything about it?”

“Nothing at all,” Taeyong says quickly. “Baekhyun made sure of it.”

“That’s good, then.” She opens her mouth as though to say something more, only to pause, cock her head, and smile again. “Speak of the devil~”

The door to her cabin opens and in walks Baekhyun.

He freezes once he catches sight of Taeyong sat on the floor at Ayu’s table. “Am I—“

“We’re only talking; come in. Close the door behind you.”

“Yukhei’s outside,” Baekhyun says, jerking his thumb over his shoulder. “Should I—“ He seems at a loss for words, shocked into a stupor.

Ayu’s grin widens. “Tell him to come inside as well, then. Remind him he’s to keep quiet about the trial, though.”

Baekhyun nods quickly and leans out the door, waving for Yukhei to follow him inside. A few seconds later, Yukhei stoops through the door, slipping off his shoes at the entrance. He waves at the sight of Ayu, and grins at Taeyong. “I thought you weren’t—“

“I’m not,” Taeyong clarifies. “I just wanted to know the way, and we ran into one another.”

Baekhyun arches a brow as though to say he doesn’t _quite_ believe that story, but isn’t willing to confront either of them about it. He mirrors Yukhei and slips off his shoes, then walks the rest of the way inside, flopping down on the couch with an air of comfort that can only be achieved by someone who’s been in this house many, _many_ times before.

“Well, we were only stopping by because we couldn’t find Taeyong and knew that he wasn’t planning on seeking you out,” Baekhyun explains. “I was going to ask you to scry for me.”

Ayu snorts. “As if I would.”

“Ah~ you love me like a _fili_. I could ask for the moon and the stars and you would consider fetching them for me~” Baekhyun singsongs. The more he speaks, the more he _does_ sound like her son. Their teasing is gentle, but respectful. Playful barbs softened by affection.

“But I wouldn’t,” Ayu reminds. “I’d leave you to fetch them yourself. As a teaching moment.”

Baekhyun scoffs, but doesn’t disagree. “So, if you two were only talking, then what about?”

Yukhei, who has taken a seat next to Taeyong after serving himself some stew, glances over, just as interested in the answer.

“About the two of you,” Taeyong says honestly, because in truth, that _has_ dominated the conversation. It only makes sense to, since Ayu knows next to nothing about him, and Taeyong nothing about her. Their only common links are Yukhei and Baekhyun, both people that Ayu seems increasingly fond of. “I haven’t been here too long.”

“It is already sundown. You’ve been gone for hours,” Yukhei says, frowning.

Taeyong glances to Ayu, who only shrugs. “Time isn’t a relevance here.” She takes a sip of her tea. “But, in that case, it is probably best I let you go for now. Do you know when you’ll seek me for the trial?” She asks, eyes glimmering with curiosity.

Taeyong shakes his head. “No, not yet. I still don’t think I’m ready.”

Ayu nods and collects his empty bowl from him. “Come visit again, Taeyong~ I’m happy to answer your questions.”

“With riddles, I’m sure~” Baekhyun singsongs. Ayu swats at him playfully, but she is smiling, just as he is.

When they leave a few minutes later, Taeyong _does_ feel admittedly a bit better about the trial in his future.

***

“So, was there a particular reason you went out alone to see Ayu?” Baekhyun wonders, when he’s finally alone with Taeyong. Yukhei had gone in for an early night; Taeyong can even hear him snoring beyond the cloth wall of the cabin. So, they sit out at the fire as a pair.

Taeyong wrings his hands together. “I was just curious, but I saw you and Yukhei in the river and figured it would be the best time to go. I didn’t know if I was allowed to go see her without invoking the trial,” he explains.

Baekhyun snorts, “You could have _asked_ , I’m your mentor. I’m _supposed_ to answer questions like that.”

Taeyong smiles awkwardly. “Admittedly, it was a bit of a spur-of-the-moment decision, but I’ll keep that in mind the next time I go out looking for the witch in the woods.”

Baekhyun rolls his eyes. “Don’t get all smart,” he chides. “I’m only trying to be helpful.”

“You are helpful~” Taeyong says, grinning. “Plenty helpful, and even more so if you come help me wash my back.” He waggles the bar of soap he’d grabbed a few minutes ago—before Baekhyun had stopped him and coaxed him into sitting near the fire.

Baekhyun blinks, startled for a moment, and then, he grins. “Of _course_ ~” he singsongs. “Come on.”

So, the end up in the river a few minutes later, hands scrubbing over one another’s skin. And despite that they are only friends, both of them have that care, that reverence, to be gentle, soothing, calming and relaxing. Baekhyun works out the knots in Taeyong’s shoulders and spine, but when Taeyong motions for _him_ to turn around to do the same, he seems almost surprised.

It’s not until Taeyong’s begun smoothing out tension corded muscle that Baekhyun seems to relax and enjoy the impromptu massage. “Do you not _normally_ have someone reciprocate for you?” Taeyong wonders.

“I don’t normally ask. I like giving~” Baekhyun purrs, sighing as a knot of tension’s released. “You may give better massages than Jongdae.”

Taeyong can’t help the flash of jealousy that zings through his heart, though he’s quick to tamp it down. “Jongdae gives you massages often?” He teases, arching a brow.

“Whenever I ask~ He’s good like that.” Baekhyun cracks open an eye and looks over his shoulder, grinning ever so slightly. “Is that _jealousy_ I hear?”

Taeyong narrows his eyes. Baekhyun’s _right_ , but he won’t let Baekhyun make him _flustered_. Perhaps he’ll like a taste of his own medicine. “What do I have to be jealous of?”

“The attention he gives me~”

“When you’re wrapped around my finger?” Taeyong teases boldly. “You are _my_ mentor.”

Baekhyun pauses, stunned into a silence, and then he grins. “You’re bold.”

“I don’t think you’re used to it.”

“Where did timid _kisha ki_ go?” Baekhyun murmurs, turning around. Like this, nearly chest to chest, facing head-on, Taeyong feels like that timid little cat _might_ make a reappearance. He can be bold, but like this, without any buffer…

Baekhyun twirls a finger in a piece of Taeyong’s hair, hand framing his face. And the moment seems suspended, seems so real, so terrifyingly real, that for a moment, Taeyong can’t breath.

Baekhyun pulls away, a smile tugging at his lips, and sinks into the river water, rinsing the soap from his body. “Has the moon gotten to you?” He teases gently. His voice warbles ever so slightly, like he’s just as aware of how close they’d been, like he’s just as aware of how much Taeyong would have liked to have kissed him.

“There’s no moonlight here,” Taeyong says, shaking off his nerves and sinking down to rinse himself. “Nothing to drive me mad but the spirits—and they like me.”

“Is that so?” Baekhyun murmurs, cocking his head. “How curious. They’re not very fond of me here—or if they are, they keep it to themselves. Not like they are in Híyí.”

“Why’s that?”

Baekhyun shrugs, but offers out his hand for Taeyong to take, using the grip to draw him deeper into the river. “There’s a legend that Yokae popular with spirits have silver-pelts~” He regards Taeyong carefully. “You should start collecting amethyst or emerald. They’ll stand-out against that color pelt.”

“As if I can collect anything while I’m stuck in the middle of the forest with you,” Taeyong says, even if the thought of having a silver pelt excites him. He can imagine it now: white fur decorated with the soft purples of an amethyst stone _or_ the harsh, brilliant greens of emerald. “What about Yukhei’s pelt?”

A part of Taeyong’s nervous Baekhyun won’t respond, that he’s still not confident in Yukhei’s ability.

“Gold.”

“Oh? Why’s that?”

Baekhyun hums, taking a moment to gather his thoughts. “He’s got a golden heart,” he finally decides on. Taeyong tries not to dwell on how Ayu had described Baekhyun in the very same way only a few hours ago. “Everyone like that ends up in the sun’s hues.”

“So, does that mean I _don’t_ have one?” Taeyong wonders, only half-joking.

Baekhyun laughs, “It just means you’re not ruled by your heart. Which makes sense~ you’re a thinker, someone who has to reason with themself constantly.”

“And you don’t?”

Baekhyun only snorts and looks away. “Not normally. What the heart wants… it tends to get, if I’m completely honest.”

“Oh?”

But Baekhyun has nothing further to say on the matter, and after a few minutes of comfortable silence, Taeyong’s _okay_ with that. They all have their secrets, all have their desires. Taeyong won’t make him reveal anything more than he already has.

Later, when Taeyong trudges from the river, Baekhyun stays behind. After toweling off on the bank, Taeyong calls out to him. “Are you not coming to bed?”

“I may stay out here a bit—“

“Come on,” Taeyong waves for him to get out of the water. “You’ve been out all day looking for me. You _have_ to be tired.”

Baekhyun laughs and walks up onto the bank, shaking the water from his hair as he does so. He accepts the towel from Taeyong’s hand and pats down his body. Then, he grabs his pants from the branch they’d been hung on, and slips them on, waggling his butt when he catches Taeyong looking.

Tayeong blushes and looks away. “Don’t tease.”

“Don’t look~”

He rolls his eyes, shoving Baekhyun playfully as he turns to make his way back to the cabin.

Yukhei’s still asleep when they return, but he rolls over and blinks awake at the sound of them getting ready for bed. “Had a good chat?”

“As always~” Baekhyun singsongs, crawling into his bed.

Taeyong lays down beside Yukhei. “Just was clearing my head. Teasing him~”

“You teasing Baekhyun, or was it the other way around?”

“A bit of both, I suppose,” Baekhyun adds in, grinning. “A timid little kitty finally getting bold~” He singsongs, delighting at the way Taeyong scoffs and glares through the dark at him.

Yukhei laughs, a breathless sort of sound, and rolls back over, curling towards Taeyong. He’s still sleepy—it won’t take him long to slip back into his dreams. “That’s good, isn’t it?”

Taeyong has nothing to say to that.

“I suppose so,” Baekhyun murmurs, his voice so very rich in the quiet. So very pleased.

***

About a week later, Yukhei brings up the trial again. “So, have you thought about when you’re going to see Ayu for real?” Yukhei asks. He crouches next to a blackberry bush and begins to pull fruit from the thicket and thorns. “I mean—no rush or anything—I’m just curious.”

Taeyong hums, “Not really. Or, well, I _have_ , but I’m not sure I’m ready yet.” He shrugs. “Like, I’m not super afraid anymore, I’m just not in any real rush to go see her. I think I’m still worried I’ll be dismissed.”

“Baekhyun said you were nervous about this one,” Yukhei murmurs. “I was kind of surprised to hear that, though. You overthink things and all, but the witch’s trial is about wit… I think.” He looks away from his task collecting fruit to meet Taeyong’s gaze. “I went super early because I wanted to get it over with. But I wasn’t _confident_. That’s for the tasks that have to do with strength or performance.”

Taeyong grins, “I was surprised to see you go early, but Baekhyun wasn’t.”

“He told me,” Yukhei says. “When you were cooking stew the other day and we were out grabbing herbs. We had a chat.”

“You have chats often?” Taeyong teases, like the three of them don’t talk every day.

Yukhei snorts, shoving Taeyong playfully. “You know what I mean. One of those more serious ones. When it feels like it means more than normal.”

“Oh? And what did you talk about in _addition_ to our assumptions about one another?”

“Do you want the honest answer?”

“Of course, why wouldn’t I?” Taeyong wonders, eyes narrowing.

Yukhei grins. “You used to get flustered when people talked about love—though that may have just been your crush on Ten—“

“You _knew_?!” Taeyong hisses, eyes wide. He straightens up, frowning. “I got over that like… at least a couple of years ago.” He shakes his head, still shocked at the revelation. “And wait~ I am _not_ weird about _love_ , of all things.”

Yukhei only points at his reaction, eyebrows raised.

Taeyong frowns, deadpanning. “I’m _not_. Besides, what about love are you talking to Baekhyun about?”

Yukhei snorts, “People we like, or rather _have_ liked, I suppose. Did you know he and that friend Jongdae he keeps mentioning used to be together?”

“No, I haven’t asked,” Taeyong replies drily, ignoring the jealous ribbon wrapping ‘round his heart. “Though it’s not so much of a leap to _guess_. He doesn’t exactly keep it hidden.”

 _“You_ sound a bit ruffled~”

“I’m not,” Taeyong protests. He takes a seat next to Yukhei, deciding it’s tiring to stand and have to look down at him. Almost immediately, his pricks his thumb on one of the blackberry thorns. “Is that all you talked about?”

“Well, he mentioned his mentor too~”

Taeyong nods, “Yeah, he told me about that while you were seeing the witch.”

Yukhei hums like he already knows. “And then we just talked about who _I_ liked.”

“Oh?” Taeyong wonders, suddenly curious. Nervous too, because while he thinks—well, _knows_ —he has feelings for Baekhyun, he has just as many, if not more, for Yukhei. And he’s not entirely sure how he’ll feel about having that crush, well… crushed. “Who _do_ you like? I know you were pretty fond of the guardswoman back home.”

Yukhei wrinkles his nose, “Sanghee? We were friends. Also, isn’t she like ten years older than me?”

“I don’t know, I never asked.”

“I prefer men anyways,” Yukhei says easily. “Women are complicated.”

“They _aren’t_ ,” Taeyong defends. “At least, no more complicated than we are.”

“You speak from experience?”

“Well, no, but you certainly don’t _either_.”

Yukhei snorts, but doesn’t disagree. For a moment, he’s quiet, focuses on picking the berries from their bush. Then… “Does it matter who I like?”

Taeyong snorts, “Of course. We’re friends. I have to vet them, you know. Make sure they’re going to be a good influence~” Taeyong singsongs. He squeezes Yukhei’s shoulder. “If you want to keep it a secret, I promise I won’t tell Ten.”

Yukhei laughs, “I’m not sure that’ll work, but sure,” he says. When he turns around, his gaze is soft, unworried, and oddly bare. “‘Cause it’s you that I like. I thought that was pretty clear, but I’m beginning to think you’re as observant as a brick wall.”

Taeyong freezes, blinking, his lips parted to let out a little wheeze of shock. “What? _Me?_ ” He presses his finger to his chest, simply emphasizing his point.

Yukhei rolls his eyes. “Yes, you. Does that bother you?”

He’s always been so honest, so blunt about things like this.

“No, not at all,” Taeyong says quickly. “I suppose I’m fond of you too.”

“What about Baekhyun?” Yukhei wonders, cocking his head.

His tone betrays knowledge, like he _must_ _know_ Taeyong’s just as enchanted by, just as attracted by the Yokae as he is Yukhei—if not more, since Baekhyun is novel, and Yukhei familiar.

“I’m fond of him too,” Taeyong says with a shrug. “I’m just not sure what to do about that. If anything at all.”

“Then, we’re similar,” Yukhei murmurs.

There’s no great revelation after that. There’s no declaration of love. But Yukhei does press closer to him; he _does_ laugh a little louder when they finally slip back into their easy jokes and banter. And Taeyong thinks he’s fine with that.

Perhaps that is why, later that night, after they’ve all slipped under their furs to go to sleep, he feels emboldened. Enough so to carefully climb out of bed and leave the cabin without waking either Baekhyun _or_ Yukhei.

The fire burns dully, but after a bit of care, he’s able to coax it into a greater flame. Only then does he grab one of the burning branches and set out to repeat the same journey he’d taken only a week or so before.

He’s going to do it. He’s going to see the witch and earn her favor.

The spirits flit about in his peripheral, smiling, laughing, shouting. But their voices never reach that climax. They never crescendo. They remain whispers, sometimes harsh, but whispers nonetheless. And Taeyong is good at ignoring them in favor of preparing himself to see Ayu.

It’s a shame that his courage begins to wear thin by the time he reaches her hut.

It looks more foreboding without her leading him to it.

Is it wrong for him to come so late into the night?

He pauses at the courtyard gate, so close to turning on his heel and walking back to the campfire, but in his moment of hesitation, the gate’s latch clicks open, and it swings wide, as though to invite him in.

He sends a short blessing up to the gods, his voice a mere whisper, and then he walks down the cobbled path and up to her door, knocking softly.

Like with the gate, it merely clicks open and swings wide.

Taeyong steps inside.

Ayu is sat at her floor-table, legs crossed, staff lain across her lap. Her fireplace flickers behind her, haloing her in red and orange and yellow flame. When she looks up, crooking her finger in invitation, her eyes are pale, golden discs—inhuman and prophetic. “Come sit, Taeyong. I have questions for you.”

He walks over, not particularly hurried, and takes a seat on the cushion opposite her. A cup of tea has been prepared for him. It is still hot, the steam wafting up in the dim lighting. “I’m here for my trial,” Taeyong says, unsure if he has to confirm it.

“I know,” Ayu says, lips tugging into the semblance of a smile. “And this is it. A conversation. Nothing more, nothing less. May I have your hand?” She places hers on the table, palm up.

Taeyong lays his atop it, watches apprehensively as she turns the hold so that the back of _her_ hand faces the ceiling, and his is pressed to the table.

A breath of magic runs up his arm.

And so, the trial begins.

“Why do you wish to become Yokae?” Ayu asks, her voice brusque, business-like. It is like Taeyong would imagine the voice of a god to be. It is a voice of someone so removed from the human experience as to be cruel.

Taeyong shakes his head, “I didn’t wish to be Yokae. I don’t really want to, even now. I just would prefer not to fail.” It feels like a lie to say it like that.

The magic begins to feel like needles pricking his flesh.

“Why did you leave Khiti Khi, then?”

“I agreed to be Chosen so long as my friend Yukhei was chosen. I wanted him to have a chance that I thought he deserved.”

“Is it only because you believe he deserved to be Yokae? Or was there another motivator? Affection, perhaps?”

Taeyong thinks about it. “At the time, I made my choice only because I thought he deserved it,” he repeats. “Maybe subconciously, it was affection, but even in that case, it would have been a friendly affection. Not a lover’s.”

Ayu hums, and the magic becomes gentle, like the river current near the shallows.

“If Yukhei fails one of the future trials, will you continue without him?”

Taeyong pauses. He’s unable to say anything for a long moment. Because he _hasn’t_ given this thought. He’s always imagined Yukhei would succeed. Has never even flirted with the idea of him failing and Taeyong _not_.

“I haven’t thought about it,” Taeyong answers honestly.

“Then, choose now. Will you continue without him?”

Taeyong looks away. If Yukhei fails, then he still has Baekhyun, but… the thought of losing him doesn’t _fit_. In much the same way, leaving Baekhyun doesn’t _either_. “I don’t think he will fail.”

“Taeyong~” Ayu singsongs. “Answer with your heart.”

“That is my answer. We will not fail.”

Silence follows his words. The lengthy kind that drags on, and on, and _on_. The flame flickers behind Ayu, burning bright, stinging his eyes with its gleam.

Ayu releases his palm and clasps her hands together. She slides her fingers against one another, making a pulling motion across her palms. And, when her hands come apart, she has molded a silver dagger into the air between them. It spins, rotating slowly, like meat on a spit. “You’ve passed. Take this for your next trials, _kisha ki_.”

Taeyong lets out a sigh of relief, his body slumping forward. He takes the dagger in hand. It’s not a knife for piercing or cutting, rather, the type of flexible blade used for skinning pelts. “What do I use it for?”

“You’ll figure it out~” Ayu murmurs. Her eyes fade back to their more human shade of brown and she waves to the door. “I would offer you a place to sleep for the night, but your mentor’s outside waiting for you.” She stands up, stretching. As she moves, Taeyong thinks he sees her glamour flicker, and instead of an old woman, stooped and greyed, he sees a woman in her middle-life, with ribboned muscle and smile lines pulling across her face.

The image is gone quickly, but Ayu smiles like she knows what he’s seen. “Go on, now.”

Taeyong’s quick to fasten the dagger to his belt and return to the door. He slips on his shoes, and then walks outside.

Baekhyun is in his pelt, his head bowed forward sleeping. His form’s drawn in, tight with nerves and tension. His tail lies limp, curled around his paws. At the sound of the door, though, he looks up—his eyes finding Taeyong’s.

He does not shift and congratulate Taeyong, but he does walk alongside him through the woods—keeping the spirits at bay.

Something about the quietness of it all makes Taeyong think he was close to failing. Something about it all is so somber, like Baekhyun had been forced to confront the thought of continuing with only _one_ of them.

But, as Taeyong climbs into his bedding some minutes later, curling around Yukhei’s sleeping figure, the only emotion he can sense is gratefulness. The deep kind that goes unspoken.

That night, Baekhyun sleeps in his pelt, curled up next to the both of them, keeping them warm.

***

“Wait—when did you get that?!” Yukhei asks, pointing at the silver knife strapped to Taeyong’s belt. It’s been a couple of days since he passed Ayu’s trial, and in that time, Baekhyun’s been quiet about the fifth task. Taeyong _thinks_ he’s going to introduce it today, though, judging by how he’s sat them at the fire and gone inside to grab a few items.

Taeyong glances at the knife and then back up at Yukhei. “I did my trial a couple of nights ago,” he reveals, frowning. He still doesn’t feel good about it. Thinks he just _barely_ scraped by.

“Did it not go well?” Yukhei wonders, noticing the grimace. “What questions did she ask you?”

“Am I allowed to say?”

Yukhei nods, “I’ve already told Baekhyun about mine. You’re allowed to talk about it after the fact, but only with people who have gone through her trial.”

Taeyong hums, collecting his thoughts and thinking back to the night. “She mostly asked why I wanted to be Yokae, and why I left Khiti Khi. She asked me what I’d do if you failed—if I’d continue to train.”

“What’d you say?”

“That I didn’t have any particular desire to become Yokae and that I didn’t think you’d fail,” Taeyong says, glancing over his answer about leaving Khiti Khi. The _only_ reason he’d left had been for Yukhei, but still, Yukhei doesn’t need to know that—even if they _are_ closer now. He doesn’t want to tear down all they’ve built.

But, Yukhei’s perceptive and he notices how Taeyong glances over it. “What made you leave Khiti Khi?” Yukhei asks, not willing to let Taeyong go without answering. “I know you turned down Baekhyun’s offer the first time, so what made you let him choose you later? Are they connected?”

At this moment, Baekhyun returns, brows arched, but he does nothing to stop Yukhei’s questioning. In fact, he encourages it. “You should answer him, Taeyong~ It’s the past. Better to lay things in the open than to hide them until they sour.” He pauses, then tacks on, “And your choice wasn’t sour. Yukhei’ll know that.”

“I let him choose me so long as he chose you, too,” Taeyong says, in one fell swoop. He _expects_ to see Yukhei draw back—hurt. But, that’s not what happens. Yukhei only tips his head and snorts.

“I figured that was the case. Ten and I were trying to reason it out back in Ki. Baekhyun _is_ the only Yokae who chose two people that year.”

“You’re not mad.”

“Being chosen’s about proving yourself, right? And I’m clearly doing that.” Yukhei shrugs. He lets that statement hang in the air, and then, directs his attention to Baekhyun. “Do we get to know the fifth trial now? Seeing as we’re both well on our way to becoming Yokae.”

“Bold~” Baekhyun singsongs. “The fifth trial is to capture the Halé Songbird.” He opens his hand and reveals what he’d brought from inside the cabin. It’s a carved figurine of a sharp-beaked, sleek feathered bird. It’s been painted a pale grey with bright, sapphire colored eyes. “This is what it looks like.” As they watch, the bird animates, the wood creaking as it begins to move and look around, ruffling its wings, and then settles back down.

It’s a simple show of magic, but a charming one.

“Where do we find it?”

Baekhyun shrugs with a grin. “That’s for me to know and the two of you to find out. But, before I throw you to the wolves—know this: there is only one Halé. If you capture something that is _not_ the Halé, you’ll be dismissed.”

“Should be easy, no?” Yukhei says, eyeing the bird figurine.

Taeyong feels like there’s a catch, but maybe he’s just residually wary from the last trial. “When do we go looking for it?”

“Whenever you’d like. I hear that the sooner you go looking for it, the easier it is to find, though.”

“In that case~” Yukhei says, standing. “Why don’t we head out now?”

“How’ll we find our way back here?” Taeyong asks.

“I’ll see that you don’t get lost,” Baekhyun says. “Don’t worry. Other than that, I suggest checking out the Central Woods. The river flows towards it.” It’s obvious that’s going to be their only hint, so Taeyong files it away alongside the other knowledge he’s just learned about the bird.

Then, he stands, following Yukhei’s lead. “Should we bring anything with us?”

“Should be enough fruit on the way that you’ll be able to eat as you go. I’ll bring camping supplies by the evening.” Baekhyun waves them off, looking significantly more confident than he had a few nights ago, when he’d led Taeyong home. “Best of luck,” he tells them.

And they’re off. Yukhei wastes no time. He’s been _itching_ to get to the fifth trial, and yet, he’s waited patiently for Taeyong to complete the fourth. It makes _sense_ that he’s ready to go out so soon. And, so long as Yukhei’s ready, Taeyong is as well.

As they follow the river, Taeyong realizes the spirits stay at bay more than when he is alone, but less so than when he is with Baekhyun. He remembers Ayu and Baekhyun’s previous comments about that. Gold-hearted people versus the silver-hearted ones.

Still, Taeyong watches the spirits flit about, and, since Yukhei is quiet, focused on navigating the woodland, he takes the time to _listen_ to what they’re saying for once.

_The birds will trick them~_

_The silver boy will figure it out~_

_Not the other!_

They laugh, tittering all around them.

“Do you think the bird’s a trick?” Taeyong asks. “I mean, didn’t Baekhyun said there aren’t any living creatures here in Chopí?”

Yukhei hums, “He _did_ say that~” he muses. “Maybe he just forgot about the bird? It could be the only one.”

“What if he didn’t?” Taeyong wonders. “And it’s not alive?”

“Well, if it’s not alive, then what would it be?” Yukhei wonders, holding back a branch for Taeyong to pass through.

As Taeyong ducks by, he thinks that he doesn’t really _have_ an answer in that case. If the bird isn’t alive, then what is it, indeed? “Maybe it is a spirit, like the ones all around us?” He shrugs. “Or maybe it’s a carving or a structure that _looks_ like the bird?”

“I don’t see how we’d capture a rock formation,” Yukhei says, grinning lopsidedly. “Let’s just keep looking around—instead of having to wonder about things, we’ll know them soon~ Don’t you think?”

“Hopefully,” Taeyong agrees, and lets them both lapse back into a comfortable quiet.

The forest mirrors them, silent as ever. Even the river is unnaturally quiet compared to those anywhere else. The longer Taeyong stays here, the more he likes it, even in its silence, even in its shyness. “Do you like this place?” He asks Yukhei, wondering again if that fundamental difference—a silver-hearted to a gold-hearted person—is what affects their reactions to Chopí.

“It’s all right. Too lonely, though,” Yukhei says. And he opens his mouth to say something more, but just as quickly snaps it shut, holding up a hand as if to say, _“Wait.”_

They pause in place, letting the silence fold around them completely.

And then, Taeyong hears it.

A whistle akin to birdsong, but not quite as natural. A haunting sort, like he might expect from the ghosts. “Is that?”

Yukhei shrugs. “Maybe? Let’s check it out,” and promptly steps away from the river in the direction of the sound. They walk slower now, more careful about the noise they’re making with each step, their ears open for any further whistle or birdcall.

As it turns out, they need’n’t have left the riverside, for it wraps around again, and they come back to its edge. And… just across the river, there is a whole flock of birds pecking at the ground. _All_ of them look like the Halé’s carving. At the sound of the two chosen’s approach, the birds all look up at once, their heads swiveling to face Taeyong and Yukhei.

Who pause, because that’s not _natural_. No flock of birds should be capable of moving all as one, without even a ripple of delay in their movements. _Especially_ not a flock that large.

“Which one is it?” Taeyong murmurs, voice a mere whisper. Baekhyun had said there was only one, but right now, it looks as though there are at least a hundred.

Yukhei shakes his head, at a loss. “I don’t know.” He takes a step towards the river and everything comes alive, the birds all taking to the sky. They roost up in the trees, heads still fixed on the newcomers. Taeyong doesn’t _get_ it. There has to be a trick—there’s no other way—but he can’t even begin to think of what it is.

“We should have taken your bow,” Taeyong murmurs.

“Can we kill it? The trial is to _capture_ it. Do you think it would matter?”

Good point, it probably does.

Taeyong nears the river, stooping down to pick up some of the smallest rocks he can find. “These shouldn’t hurt any of them if we hit one~” Taeyong says. He tosses one of the pebbles in his hands, regarding the flock of birds. “Maybe one of them flies differently?”

He throws the rock, careful not to put too much force behind it, and watches as it startles all the birds up at once. They fly about in a circle overhead, weaving through the trees, and then land a few minutes later.

“I can’t tell,” Yukhei says, once the birds have settled back into place.

But with no other ideas, they continue to toss rocks, their eyes tracing the birds each time they take flight. There really _is_ no discernable difference, though. At least, not in Taeyong’s opinion. And, by the evening, Taeyong’s only tired and _frustrated_.

Which is, of course, the moment Baekhyun shows up—lugging along their bed rolls. They won’t need a tent, not with the way the tree canopy keeps out all of the weather, all of the light. “Any luck?” He calls, unrolling the palettes and digging out a spot for a fire.

“No~ What’s the trick?” Taeyong calls back, even if he knows Baekhyun’s not going to answer.

And he doesn’t, only laughing as he starts gathering wood for a fire. “I promise there _is_ one, if that helps?” At Yukhei’s whine, he only cackles louder. So, while he continues gathering wood, Taeyong once again turns his attention to the birds.

There’s _something_ , he just can’t figure it out.

They throw another rock, and as tired as Taeyong is, he almost feels like he’s hallucinating. But… something _had_ happened, triggering a flicker of interest in the back of his mind. Still, he can’t put an actual name to it. “Throw another one? I think something changed?” He tries.

Yukhei does so, once the birds are all settled down.

Again, Taeyong feels like he’s noticing something, just not _focusing_ on it. At a loss, though, he only shakes his head and gives up. “Let’s take a break and go back to it after dinner,” he says.

“You don’t have to tell me twice,” Yukhei replies, going to sit down near the fire pit. He spreads out a woven rug and tugs off his boots, making himself comfortable. Baekhyun returns with the wood for the fire and sets it up, leaving Yukhei to light it while he goes to grab some fruit from a tree he’d passed on his collection run.

Only a few minutes later sees them all with fruit juice dripping down between their fingers, playfully ribbing one another. And when the conversation lulls, Yukhei taps at the silver dagger on his belt, “So, do you know what we’re going to do with this?” He asks Baekhyun.

He gets a shrug and a knowing smile. “I _do_ , but again… you’ve gotta think this one out on your own.” At both of their frowns, Baekhyun holds out his hand. Yukhei places the knife in it. “The hints are in the knife and the trial itself. Which, I’ll introduce when it’s time. But, take a look.” He holds the knife up and bends the blade, pointing out its flexibility. “This is a skinning knife.”

“So?”

“So?” Baekhyun repeats, rolling his eyes. “So, that’s important. Keep it in mind. It’s also silver, what do you know about silver?”

“It’s cheaper than gold,” Taeyong offers, but Baekhyun waves his hand and frowns. “Uh, the silver-pelted Yokae are popular with spirits.”

It must not be _quite_ what Baekhyun’s looking for, since doesn’t seem completely sold, but he nods anyway. “Do you have an idea as to why that is?”

“Silver’s an arcane element?” Yukhei tries.

“Close?”

“It’s pure?” Taeyong offers.

Baekhyun nods. “You two have the right train of thought. So just, hang onto that when it comes time for the next trial. I’m sure it’ll click at some point.” He wipes his hands on a rag and then lounges back. “But let’s not get ahead of ourselves. I noticed you seemed to figure something out about the birds?”

Taeyong shakes his head. “I think, but I can’t _quite_ pinpoint it.”

Yukhei adds, “I’m just frustrated. Everything seems the same. Did you struggle with this one?”

“I didn’t do it for like, several months,” Baekhyun reveals. “Which worked out in my favor, but you two don’t seem like the type to _want_ to stay here any longer than you must.” He’s grinning, though, like that’s not a failing of theirs, only a curiosity.

“So, we _could_ wait this trial out?”

“Maybe? I was completely alone, which might have helped me?” He shrugs. “I think you’re close to figuring it out anyway, so I wouldn’t give up now. Maybe look at it with fresh eyes come the morning?”

Taeyong sighs and Yukhei shakes his head. “I’m going to keep looking through the night,” Yukhei says. “If I sleep, I’ll get lazy~”

“If you say so,” Baekhyun murmurs, arching a brow. “Don’t be too loud, in that case. By contrast, I _need_ my beauty sleep.”

They all laugh. Baekhyun makes to stand. “I’m going to go wash, do you want to join me?”

Taeyong climbs to his feet, but Yukhei remains sat at the fire. “I’m going to hang around here. I washed up this morning.”

“Suit yourself~” Baekhyun singsongs, grabbing a towel and walking to the riverside. Taeyong follows him, grinning and trudging into the water happily—glad to leave the trial out of mind for brief moment. They’ve chosen a stretch of river a little ways away from the campfire, that way they won’t disturb the birds _or_ distract Yukhei.

It’s when their lounging in the river, arms resting on some of the river rocks, legs slowly kicking behind themselves, that Baekhyun sighs. “ _Kisha ki~_ did you ever imagine you’d end up here? Four levels up the Mount?”

Taeyong shakes his head. “ _Never_ ,” he breathes, listening to the way the spirits chatter in surprise around them. “I’m glad I’m here, though. I’ve never felt so… free.” He lets that statement sit, and then, in a lighter tone, something more teasing, asks, “If you are going to keep calling me a little cat, surely, I can find a nickname for you?”

“Surely,” Baekhyun echoes. “You can start with _chõsae ki_ ~”

_Handsome cat._

Taeyong may agree, but he’s not going to inflate Baekhyun’s ego more than it already is. “ _P’aw chíá_ would be more fitting.”

“You don’t even know what that means~” Baekhyun says with a smile. “At least, not what it means up here.”

“It means ‘my challenge’? No?”

Baekhyun shrugs, and keeps the translation to himself, returning his gaze to the campsite. Only for his eyes to widen, his mouth pressing into a tight, worried, line.

Taeyong looks too, dread settling in his gut like lead. Only to see Yukhei creeping across the river, as though he’ll capture one of the birds.

Baekhyun curses underneath his breath—something about impatience—and looks away. But, Taeyong… Taeyong rushes for the riverbank, grabbing his towel, and shouting.

The birds scatter and Yukhei dives, a last ditch attempt to grab one.

And he misses.

Taeyong hurries over, heart pounding. “What the hell? Did you figure it out, or?” Judging by the look on Yukhei’s face, though, he _hadn’t_. He was just taking a shot in the dark. Immediately, Taeyong’s _angry_. Not in the way that’s born from annoyance or frustration, but the one that’s born from fear. “Tell me you didn’t just—“

“I didn’t catch one, it’s fine,” Yukhei says, brushing him off, tone guilty.

“It’s not fine,” Taeyong says. “If you caught the wrong one, that was it. You’d have been dismissed. You’d have left me _alone_.” Yet, even as he scolds, he holds out his hand for Yukhei to take and help himself up. “We don’t have to jump on every trial immediately. We can wait,” he says, softer now. “We can work together. That’s why we’re _here_ together.”

He leads Yukhei back to the river. Baekhyun watches them both, his expression relieved (even if he tries to hide it). “He’s your _p’aw chíá_ ,” Baekhyun murmurs, bringing Taeyong right back to their conversation _before_ all the chaos.

Yukhei snorts, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “I’m sorry,” he finally apologizes. “I don’t know what I was thinking.”

Baekhyun hums, accepting it. Taeyong’s not as quick, his heart still pattering in his chest, and so, remains quiet.

“You weren’t thinking,” Baekhyun says, quite simply. “You let your heart—your emotions—run the show. But frustration’s not going to get you anywhere, just as impatience won’t either.” He reaches out to rub Taeyong’s shoulder, as though he’s noticed his lingering stress.

Yukhei nods, sufficiently scolded.

“Don’t dwell on it though,” Baekhyun says, tone lightening. He’s already moving on. “It’s better not to linger on your shortcomings. Just figure out how to grow from them.”

With those words, the conversation begins to smooth over. Yukhei brings up some of the things he’d noticed about the birds, and Taeyong simply remains quiet, unable to stop thinking about what nearly happened, about what the consequences would have been.

He told Ayu they would not fail.

And unfortunately, his resolve in that has begun to waver.

***

He stays awake that night, watching the birds with a passing sort of interest, though nothing entirely focused or concrete. His mind’s still stuck on earlier, his heart still unable to calm itself down.

Rustling comes from behind him—someone freeing themself from their blankets—and after a few moments of suspension, Yukhei comes to sit next to him, quiet, shoulders slumped. “Taeyong…” he begins, looking over at him.

Taeyong remains staring forward, chewing his bottom lip between his teeth.

“I know I already said it, but I really am sorry.”

Taeyong finally dares to look at him. Yukhei’s expression’s soft, the slightest frown tugging at his lips. “ _You_ can’t fail,” he says. “You’re made for this. It’s _your_ dream.” His lip trembles. “I _can’t_ do this alone.” He looks away.

Yukhei scoots closer, reaching out and coaxing Taeyong to look at him again. He brushes Taeyong’s bangs from his face. “If you asked me, I think it’s the other way around. I can’t do this without _you_.” His gaze lingers.

The moment hangs.

“Can I kiss you?” Yukhei asks.

Taeyong’s eyes shoot wide. “What?”

“I think it’d be a great distraction!” Yukhei defends, grinning brilliantly. Just like that, the heaviness of the mood lifts, and the two of them are laughing. “Look, I was right~” He singsongs, pleased with himself.

Taeyong rolls his eyes, and, in an effort to one-up him, kisses _Yukhei_. Who melts, lips opening beneath Taeyong’s, letting out a pleasant little hum.

They part, grinning.

“ _Wow,”_ Yukhei teases. “I should try failing more often~”

“You better not,” Taeyong says, swatting his arm. He looks back at the birds, seeking a buffer, his boldness seeping away for the light sort of embarassment that comes hand in hand with giddiness.

Yukhei nudges his shoulder, and also looks to the birds, understanding Taeyong’s shyness with ease. After a few minutes, he gathers a few of the pebbles from earlier, and then, he tosses one.

Taeyong freezes, lips parting in surprise.

He waits until the birds settle down again. Yukhei throws another stone.

And…

_Yes!_

He’s seen it.

“Yukhei, I figured it out,” he says, surprised, excited, and _shocked_. “Oh, _wow_.” He takes one of the pebbles from Yukhei’s palm and this time, when the birds settle down, he points at one of them. “Watch that one. It moves just a half-second before the others,” he says, throwing the rock after Yukhei nods.

Indeed, it _does_. The rest follow like a unit. If he _hadn’t_ been paying attention, he never would have noticed.

Yukhei still doesn’t see it, so they throw the rock a few more times. Finally, he catches on as well. “No way!” He says, eyes wide. “You’re a genius.”

“The others must be an illusion? That explains why Baekhyun said there’s only one of the birds.” Taeyong’s worries from earlier feel like ghosts on the wind in light of his revelation. “Should we try and catch it now? I don’t know how easy it’ll be to see it in the morning, even knowing what to look for.”

“Why not? I saw Baekhyun brought a basket to gather water in. We can probably use that.” Yukhei stands up to retrieve the tightly woven bowl, pouring out the water as he walks.

Taeyong takes it in hand and then glances back at the birds. “Maybe one of us should approach from one side and the other from the opposite? So the bird doesn’t see us?”

“I’ll be the distraction~” Yukhei says, standing. “You’re better at spotting it.”

Taeyong nods and climbs to his feet. He takes note of the direction of the wind, and begins to move downwind. Do birds even have a sense of smell? He doesn’t know, but doesn’t want to risk anything.

Yukhei mirrors him going the opposite direction. He crosses the river much louder than Taeyong does, effectively stealing the birds attention away from him.

They close in on the bird like that. Taeyong realizes as he picks his way through the flock, that he needn’t even hop around them. The birds _are_ illusions. He can walk right through them. And since _the_ bird is fixed on Yukhei, it doesn’t even see Taeyong approaching.

He holds his breath the nearer he gets.

And then, he jumps, slapping the basket down overtop the bird’s head. It flutters inside the cage. But it’s _caught_. Yukhei whoops in excitement and pumps his fist. Taeyong can only grin, feeling accomplished, his confidence soaring.

From the riverbank, they hear applause. “You can let it go, now~ I’ll tell you the sixth trial in the morning. Come to bed,” he urges, his hair tussled by sleep, but his gaze so very proud.

Taeyong lifts the basket up and lets the bird flutter away.

If Baekhyun sees he and Yukhei kiss again, riding the elation of their success, he says nothing.

***

When they wake in the morning, Taeyong cuddled against Yukhei’s chest, Baekhyun’s already sat up eating some fruit for breakfast. He catches Taeyong’s eye and arches a brow, none too obviously glancing at the way Yukhei’s arm wraps his waist.

Taeyong blushes and sits up, rousing Yukhei from his sleep as well.

“Don’t mind me~” Baekhyun singsongs, waving them both off. “But, do you want to hear about the sixth trial here, or do you want to go back to camp?”

“This is the last one on this level, right?” Yukhei wonders, still blinking awake. “May as well just stay here if we can, don’t you think?”

Baekhyun waits for Taeyong to agree, and then, reaches over for his bag. From it, he pulls a hand-bound book, flipping it open in the palm of his hand.

On the worn, tanned pages, there’s a charcoal drawing of a map. Baekhyun taps his finger to a ‘U’ shaped symbol in the far north of the map. “In that case, let me tell you about the sixth trial.” He waits for both Taeyong and Yukhei to scoot closer.

“So, it’s a little different in that it actually has you travel beyond Chopí. The Northern Gate—“ he taps the symbol on the map again, “—takes you to the third level from the top. It’s the first of the divine steps of the mount.”

Taeyong peers at the map, committing the location to memory.

“This third level—Híyí, also known as the Fog—is where Ki’u guards the Gate to Wofa.” Baekhyun flips the page and exposes a second map. He points to a new arch-way’s symbol. This one is also marked with a red paw-print, likely to symbolize the gate’s guardian. “Wofa is where the last three trials will take place. In order to get _there_ , though, you have to pass Ki’u.”

Taeyong frowns. “There’s a catch.”

“Of course, what would the trials be if there wasn’t?” Baekhyun teases. In a more serious voice, he says, “Ki’u won’t let a human past the gate.”

Yukhei chokes. “ _What?_ ”

“What are we supposed to do, then?” Taeyong wonders, heart sinking. If the Halé Bird had seemed like an impossible challenge, this one is worse.

Baekhyun shrugs. “You’ll figure it out. I promise. And after this trial, I get to go back to helping you two. Sorry, Chopí’s kind of _the_ test—you know. Really tries to make sure you fail out if you’re not worthy.”

“I don’t want to fail though,” Yukhei says, pouting. He takes the book from Baekhyun’s hand and stares at the map. “Does she _always_ guard the gate?”

“Not always,” Baekhyun says. “Sometimes she waits just inside it, and eats anything that wanders through it.”

Taeyong frowns. “I’m not having a goddess cannibalize me.”

“I would hope not,” Baekhyun replies, grinning. “I swear you’ll figure out the trick. Just… give it some time. Anyway, I know I said we could stay here or go back to the campsite, but I really would suggest heading back to camp.” He begins to roll up his bedroll. “It’s more comfortable there, and I don’t think you guys are going to get this in like… the immediate moment—if that makes sense?”

Yukhei sighs and flops back down on his pallet. “I _suppose_ ,” he whines. He must feel daunted too. Taeyong certainly is.

This _will_ be his first time meeting a goddess, after all. “Do you think Ayu would help us? She helped you, right?”

“She helped _me_ because I didn’t have a mentor to get help from,” Baekhyun corrects. “She might have advice, but I’d count on her speaking in riddles, not on telling the answer.”

Come that evening, back at the campsite, Taeyong’s no more wise to what they could possibly do to get past the gate. Nor is Yukhei.

Baekhyun’s already gone to sleep, though he sleeps in his pelt tonight, his red and gold fur rising and falling with each breath. In the dark inside the cabin, Taeyong simply watches, trying to think through solutions.

“A penny for your thoughts?” Yukhei mumbles, rolling over on his bed pallet. He props his head up on his arm.

Taeyong grins, and picks at the thread on one of his blankets. “Just thinking about how we’ll get past the gate,” he says.

“Well, the skinning knife has to be important, and in the Yokae myth, doesn’t Ki’u disguise herself with a pelt. Hence why we got… well, the Yokae?”

Taeyong nods. “But there’s no animals on Chopí.” He’s already given the myth some thought. But even as he’d reasoned through it, he hadn’t been able to come up with a solution. “Maybe we can go back down the mountain?”

“Or maybe there’s something in Híyí?” Yukhei wonders.

“Maybe…” Taeyong trails off, lets his words hang.

Yukhei pushes up to his feet, reaching out to take Taeyong’s hand. “Come on, let’s go for a walk or something.” And tugs him up and out of the cabin-tent. And though there’s no moonlight, and they have to stop and coax a flame to a torch, being out in the open air helps him to slough off his worries.

“I think I needed this?” Taeyong murmurs.

“What? A walk?”

“Some air~”

“You get caught up in your head,” Yukhei agrees. “Sometimes you need help getting out of it.”

“Yeah?” Taeyong grins, glancing at the head of their torch. They’re walking into the flame. If they continue on this path, they’ll end up running into Ayu’s home. “Do you want to go walk to the gate? Just to see where it is?” He suggests, remembering the map. He points slightly to the west of the flame.

“Why not?” Yukhei shrugs, altering their path.

The spirits have begun to appear, their voices whispering out of the gaps between the trees.

 _Lovers? What of our sunshine boy?_ Some seem to mumble, their voices oddly poisonous when they filter through the trees.

 _Only one’s meant to see Yoto~_ Says another—like a promise.

 _Don’t lose your way… it is possible to starve here~_ Sings another, laughing in the wake of its words.

“Are you listening?” Yukhei asks, startling Taeyong from his focus.

“Hm? Sorry, I got distracted listening to them,” Taeyong motions to the spirits flitting about in the shadows. “They’re… loud today.”

“Really? I can’t hear them all too well.” Yukhei’s gaze lingers on one of the wisps, and then, moves on—his attention bored of it already. “I was going to ask you about Ten. Doesn’t it—I don’t know—break the bro-code to date each other?”

Taeyong presses his lips into a flat-line. “Bro-code?”

“Don’t pretend like you don’t know it~”

“Are we fifteen still?”

“Does it expire?”

Taeyong can’t tell if he’s serious. “Ten’s _not_ going to be bothered. Knowing him, he’s known we’ve been pining for longer than _we_ have.”

“You were pining for me?”

“Shut _up_ ,” Taeyong groans, swatting him. “Besides, isn’t bro-code about dating each other’s exes? Dating _each other_ isn’t included.”

“You’re right,” Yukhei agrees. He begins to say something else, but again, the spirits catch Taeyong’s attention.

_If they’re not careful, they’ll draw Ki’u herself from the Gate~_

_Don’t warn them._

_Their mentor will banish us if we let them be hurt._

_If he even realizes they’re gone._

_Shh, he may hear us yet~_

Taeyong slows, placing a hand on Yukhei’s arm. “Hey, the spirits are… acting up, and they aren’t saying good things. But, I think we’re close to the gate.” He lowers his voice even further. “I think we should be quiet, just in case.”

Yukhei raises a brow and leaves whatever story he’d launched into forgotten. Now, they walk forward more carefully. Sure to keep their steps soft and quiet. And, sure enough, within minutes, they catch sight of the Gate to Híyí. Fog creeps from beneath the ancient, crumbling archway, crawling out over the forest floor.

And just inside the gate, Taeyong swears he sees something slink by. It is gone in an instant, though, so he’s not sure. Yukhei hasn’t mentioned anything, so perhaps it’s just his imagination.

“That’s Híyí,” Yukhei murmurs, walking ever closer to the gate. Taeyong’s slower, more apprehensive, though he never does let go of Yukhei’s arm. “Are you afraid? We’ll have to go through the gate eventually.” His words carry no judgement, only question.

“A little. Baekhyun _did_ tell us that Ki’u would kill us if she catches us.”

“Yes, but she’s in Híyí and we are still in Chopí.” Yukhei shrugs and steps closer to the gate, sticking his hand through the archway and waving it through the fog.

Taeyong holds his breath.

Yukhei removes his hand, perfectly intact. “Well, we know where it is now.” He shrugs. “Sucks that we don’t know how to get past Ki’u, yet. I’m itching to get out of here. I want to see more~”

“Do you think we’ll get to meet up with Ten and them again in Wofa?” Taeyong asks, thinking of Yeri and Sooyoung in addition to their friend.

“Am I not good company?”

“You’re fine company~” Taeyong singsongs with a laugh. They both turn, leaving the gate behind them and walking their way back to the campsite. “Just getting boring.”

“Boring?” Yukhei scoffs. “That’s a bold claim.”

“Is it?”

Yukhei swats him, “What’s so boring?”

“That you won’t kiss me~” Taeyong says, and then immediately stops, shocked at his own self that he’d voiced it.

Yukhei laughs and tugs him close, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “That’s all?” He cards his fingers through Yukhei’s hair, bringing them to a stop on the path. “A lack of kisses?” His grin is so open, so bright. His gaze _so_ pleased, so loving.

“Of course~” Taeyong says, melting, _preening_ under Yukhei’s attention.

“But where’s the fun in that? Shouldn’t there be a little challenge?” Yukhei wonders, even as he presses another kiss to Taeyong’s head. “Where’s the chase? The catch?”

Taeyong scoffs and rolls his eyes, “You want a chase?” Even after the years Yukhei’s pined for him? “Then chase me?” And he leaps into motion. He hears a laugh behind him, shocked but supremely pleased, and then the sound of Yukhei crashing through the forest behind him.

All around, the spirits lose their original venom, their whispers turning light with gentle mirth, with curiosity, with affection. The spirits know what young love is like. It may be far removed from their memory, but they know it, and they remember it.

Taeyong leaps over a fallen branch, taking the time to glance behind him, only for Yukhei to crash right into him.

They both fall to the ground, rolling and laughing. Yukhei presses a kiss to his shoulder, then to his sternum. Taeyong cards his fingers through Yukhei’s hair, mussing it, and then scrambles away. Again, they’re running—flitting through the trees, putting distance between one another.

The dark makes the chase exciting. Taeyong’s able to pull ahead and slow down—Yukhei no where to be seen.

So, he hauls himself into a dense, but low-hanging tree branch, clinging to it while he listens for any sign of the other chosen.

Silence.

And then, Yukhei appears through the gaps in the tree leaves, looking all around, a smile on his face; he’s searching for Taeyong, brown eyes roving over the forest thicket.

Taeyong blinks, and the next second he looks, Yukhei’s gaze is on his. He’s been found.

“Come down~” Yukhei singsongs, though he makes to climb up into the tree. Taeyong giggles and drops down, but Yukhei follows the motion and catches his arm, pulling him close. Taeyong’s breath stutters from his body as they press up close, chest to chest. Yukhei’s is heaving from exertion, but it doesn’t show in his face.

No, his face is gentle—expression fond, alight with joy even with the sweat marking his brow.

They kiss, and Taeyong thinks that perhaps… he’s in love with him.

Later, when they return to the tent, Baekhyun’s gone, his pallet cold to the touch—not that either of them are paying much attention. Not when Yukhei’s hands are smoothing down Taeyong’s sides, his thumbs pressing into his hips. Not when Yukhei’s mouth is on his, plush and warm and needy.

They fall into their shared pallet of furs, laughing as they break apart. Taeyong straddles Yukhei’s hips and straightens up, stretching his arms over his head. Yukhei helps him take of his shirt, gaze reverent, _adoring_.

When their eyes meet, his soften. “Should we stop?” He murmurs, nodding his head at the empty bedding. _Baekhyun_ … Taeyong’s heart pangs with… longing—though he feels guilty for it when Yukhei’s right here beneath his lap.

“Do you want to?” Taeyong reaches down to place his hands over Yukhei’s, fingertips dancing along the skin.

“No. But…” Yukhei purses his lips. He’s hesitant and rightfully so.

And because he notices, Taeyong leans down and presses a kiss to Yukhei’s forehead. “Let’s just sleep for tonight. It’s probably for the best, right?” After all, isn’t this too fast? Perhaps, they’re still just riding the adrenaline of their game… perhaps not.

It’s at that moment that they hear footsteps outside. Baekhyun parts the cabin curtain and lets himself inside, arching a brow at the couple’s position.

“Do you need me to sleep elsewhere tonight?” He singsongs, tone light, even if his gaze is hard to read.

“No, we’re just about to go to bed,” Yukhei says, watching as Taeyong moves from straddling him to curl up against his side.

Taeyong echoes him with a hum, a pink blush painting his cheeks.

“Then I’ll stay,” Baekhyun says a long beat later. He puts away some things and then goes to crawl onto his bed. Even once he _is_ asleep, the tension seems to hang in the air far too long. It is the heavy kind. Not the type that typically follows a short ribbing about love.

So, when Taeyong falls asleep, perhaps an hour later, he does so with a flicker of… unsurity in mind.

***

He dwells on it for a while, but after that night, Baekhyun doesn’t seem _off_. He just seems normal. Apart from the fact that he sleeps in his pelt more often than not, these days. And while it’s curious to share a tent with a tiger the size of a small bull… it’s not quite _routine_. At least, it hadn’t been routine _until_ they’d passed the fifth trial.

Taeyong can’t shake the thought of it _meaning_ something. Can’t shake the idea of it having a purpose.

“We could go talk to Ayu?” Yukhei offers thoughtfully, turning over the silver dagger in his hands. The river water rushes past both of their feet, a bubbling sort of noise that they’ve been using to help clear their heads. They’re brainstorming, right now. Trying to figure out how to progress, since it seems things have come to a grinding halt.

“She’s not going to tell us anything,” Taeyong mumbles. He had floated the idea himself, but on second-thought, remembering how she’d spoke to him the few times he’s met her, he’s sure she has nothing to offer them but more riddles. “It has to be something we _know_.”

“Why do you think that?”

“Because it’d be stupid for them to tell us to challenge a God if we really had _nothing_ to work off of. We _must_ already know the answer.”

Yukhei frowns, staring off across the river. “In the myth, Ki’u uses a lion pelt to disguise herself from the gods.” They always come back to this fact, but there aren’t any animals in Chopí. Taeyong’s _looked_ , just in case Baekhyun was lying.

“No animals, remember?” Taeyong reminds, huffing.

Yukhei nods. “Yeah, but the idea—disguising ourselves. That has to be the way to go.”

“I don’t disagree.”

Yukhei stares down at his knife, and then sighs frustratedly. “I feel like it’s staring us right in the eyes, and yet… I just _can’t_ figure it out.”

Taeyong sets his own knife aside and leans back on his hands, about to request a break. Except, he hears the sound of footsteps and then watches as Baekhyun steps into the river beside them, sitting down on their shared rock.

“Any luck?” Baekhyun asks. He has what looks like a pomegranate in hand—split into two halves, with juice running down between his fingers. He offers one half to Taeyong, who shares it with Yukhei. “You two have been sitting out here for hours.”

“We’re thinking hard~” Yukhei whines.

“But we’ve got nothing,” Taeyong finishes. He tries to think of _everything_ he’s been told about the sixth trial, only to have an early conversation come back to him. “Actually, didn’t you say the sixth trial was one of the ones you got help with?”

“Ayu… counseled me for it, but Lawt’aka acted as my mentor… yes,” Baekhyun says, tone careful, like he’s worried he’ll give away too much.

He already has, at least… enough. “So, we _need_ your help for this trial?” Taeyong surmises, even though Baekhyun’s already said they’re on their own.

Baekhyun’s eyes narrow as he glances between the two of them. “I sense a trick.”

“No tricks, only questions~” Taeyong singsongs. Yukhei doesn’t appear to be following entirely, but he’s clever enough to let Taeyong take the lead. “How did Lawt’aka help you?”

Baekhyun snorts. “You’re asking for answers, now,” he says, standing up. “So, I’m going to go ahead and head _back_ to the tent. Soon, tou two should do the same. Give your heads a rest.” He tosses them the rest of the pomegranate and retreats, just as quickly as he’d come.

Yet, this is all Taeyong needed.

“I think I figured it out,” Taeyong says. “You need a mentor for this trial, but the mentor doesn’t _help_. Not explicitly.”

Yukhei arches a brow. “Then what _do_ they do.”

“I have to test it, but… I think I’ve got it.” Taeyong lets that statement hang in the air, mulling over his plans. “I _think_ ~”

But, he’s not sure, even when they get ready to settle down for bed some hour later. Yukhei’s quick to fall asleep (he always is), but Taeyong remains awake, watching the rise and fall of Baekhyun’s side. He’s in his pelt, just as Taeyong had predicted; his ear twitches, his paw flexes, and his tail flicks intermittently.

He is asleep, caught in the beauty and adventure of his dreams. Much like a dog might howl in its sleep, the tiger chuffs and snores and remains unaware to the boy crawling ever closer—blade clutched in hand.

It gleams despite the lack of a moon. Glints as though it can _taste_ the magic simmering in the air. This, if nothing else, convinces Taeyong that he’s on the right path.

He takes a hold of one of Baekhyun’s great paws and watches his face for any sign of wakefulness. There is nothing, and so Taeyong brings the metal to the joint, pressing into the soft fur gathered at it and digging carefully to nick the skin. Only for a hand to close around _his_ wrist, so unexpected that he bites back a scream—blood pooling in his mouth from having bit his tongue.

“What in the gods’ names are you _doing_?!” Yukhei hisses, his voice too loud, even as a whisper.

Baekhyun’s eye cracks open.

Taeyong feels like a deer looking down the length of an arrow. He feels _caught_. Even more so when Baekhyun’s gaze flicks from his face, to Yukhei’s, and then, down to the silver blade just shy of cutting his skin.

Before Taeyong can even summon the words to explain himself, Baekhyun shifts, and the knife nicks the skin beneath all that fur. He doesn’t stop there, moving his paw so as to allow the blade to glide along the length of his leg. It cuts through with magical ease, revealing Baekhyun’s golden, human skin beneath it.

Yukhei sucks in a breath. “Is this?”

Taeyong nods wordlessly, understanding without having to be told anymore. He’d been right. With this in mind, he takes initiative, slowly peeling the tiger pelt from Baekhyun’s body. He peels away each arm, the shoulders, the neck, and the head. Soon enough, Baekhyun’s warm—human—eyes are watching him.

It takes a startlingly long amount of time, though that could just be due to Taeyong’s… hesitance. Yukhei works quicker, freeing the rest of the pelt for them to tug away.

It leaves Baekhyun lying naked in his blankets and animal furs, but he merely tugs one of the cloths over him and nestles further into his bedding. “Split it in half,” he murmurs tiredly. “And be clever. Don’t get too close to her. She’ll be able to smell your mortality.”

“How are you going to get through without your pelt?” Yukhei blurts. Taeyong hadn’t even thought of that himself, and now, he’s afraid this _wasn’t_ the right choice.

Baekhyun shrugs and yawns, “I am still Yokae, am I not? Go do your trial. I will meet you in Wofa.”

***

Yukhei dons half of Baekhyun’s pelt, while Taeyong dons the other. Then, they crouch at the edge of the gate, neither of them feeling particularly brave. Not when faced by a goddess famed for her temper. Yukhei, ever brave, is the first to slip through. Taeyong rushes to follow him, feet scampering across the forest floor and out the other end of the gate.

Híyí, the Fog, is a place of gravel and vapor. It’s cloudy and silent. There is not a soul to be seen.

Taeyong unfolds the map he’d hastily taken from the tent and spreads it on the ground. He and Yukhei both crouch next to it and look for any sort of landmark to work off of.

“Is that the ocean?” Yukhei asks, pointing to one of the only lines that leads towards the Gate to Wofa.

“Could be? It looks like it’s straight on from here. We’ll chance upon it soon.” Taeyong stands up and tucks the map into the waistband of his pants as both he and Yukhei take off at a brisk trot. Part of Taeyong’s apprehensive to leave the gate behind. Híyí really _doesn’t_ have any markers with which to tell location.

It’s merely lit by the moon, and other than that? Nothing.

They hit the ocean eventually—and that is what it is, a sparkling black sea that, when they dip a toe in, has no discernable bottom. It is like cliff drops off right after the wave-break. Such a thought as disappearing into the inky deep has Taeyong putting a great distance between he and the shoreline.

Yukhei, thankfully, appears to feel the same, as he sticks close to Taeyong’s side.

They walk in silence, too afraid to speak lest they lure Ki’u from the fog.

In time, the Gate to Wofa becomes visible, rising up like a monolith amidst all the fog. The moonlight hits it and turns it a gleaming sort of silver. The fog swirls all around it. And there, sat like a sentinel in front of the gate is a titan if Taeyong has ever seen one.

Ki’u has the height of the palace back in Khiti Khi. She has the musculature of a bear, or even an ox—an animal so great and powerful it is better to leave it be than _ever_ to challenge it. Her top-half is woman, armored with bone and tasseled with feathers and beads. Her bottom is that of a tiger, one with a black pelt and even blacker stripes. She holds in hand an axe with a head on both ends.

Taeyong’s gonna be sick.

Yukhei reaches over and squeezes his hand. “We have the pelt. We’ll be fine.”

“What if we’re not?” Taeyong hisses.

“I don’t know. I think we’re faster. If things go to shit let's just… rush the gate,” Yukhei says, putting on a _very_ brave front for someone who’s equally horrified about the prospect of the goddess catching them.

“You go first,” Taeyong says, but he doesn’t let go of Yukhei’s hand. Not even when he takes the first few steps towards the gate and the goddess’s great head turns to look at them.

Ki’u has a strong, hooked nose and a powerful squared jaw. Her skin is a deep brown and her hair a dark black that has been braided and tied behind her neck. She doesn’t have the features prominent to Khiti Khi, but they are beautiful all the same. If her presence weren’t so foreboding here at the gate, Taeyong thinks people would worship her as the god of man. She is that impressive.

Her eyes flit down upon them. “Yokae?” She wonders aloud, her voice a raspy, but so very rich quality. _“Wa ch́epha kʼá̃ wámbũũsæ yé mbí sú̃ ngewaw.”_

Ki’u speaks their language, but she speaks it in its oldest form. Her accent is foreign to Taeyong’s ears, though the words aren’t. And it flows from her mouth like a song. Even Baekhyun has not reached this quality, this manner, of speaking. It is enchanting.

And terrifying, for she had asked: _what are two kittens doing at the gate?_

Taeyong feels his heart patter quicker, but it’s Yukhei who responds. “Passing through it~” He calls out. “ _Hẽleyo Ki’u.”_

_Luminous Ki’u._

He is flattering her.

Taeyong holds his breath. Somehow, Ki’u doesn’t seem like the type of goddess to indulge whims like that. Flattery almost seems as though to speak to a brick wall.

But, she _does_ laugh. _“Baekhyun-ah’s scent is all over you~”_ She tells them, stooping down to get a better look at them. _“But he is one cat. And you are two.”_ She cocks her head then and rises back up to her full height. _“Only one passes through the gate.”_

Taeyong’s jaw drops and he speaks without fully waiting a second to _think_. “No.” He says it loud and clear, with a striking brazenness and a heavy note of finality. “Both of us, or neither of us.”

 _“If that reasoning worked for you before, it will not now,”_ Ki’u says, her gaze like flint. “ _Choose_.”

Yukhei opens his mouth to say something (probably something selfless and _dumb_ considering he’s the one that wanted to be Yokae), but Taeyong cuts him off. “Yukhei can go through the gate. I’ll find another way.”

He expects to hear Yukhei protest, but… that doesn’t come.

Yukhei merely walks them both closer to the gate and, under the watchful gaze of Ki’u, turns and regards Taeyong with something of a _sad_ look in his eyes. “I need this~” He says quietly. “It’s been my dream.” _Not yours_ , he leaves unspoken.

Taeyong’s not sure his heart’s even beating as he lets his eyes flutter shut, acceptance bubbling over his features just as quickly as melancholy.

Only to feel the swooping motion of his stomach giving out as Yukhei drags them both through the gate, right beneath Ki’u’s nose.

The second they touch the grass on the other side, they’re scrambling to their feet and running, but the only thing that follows them through the gate is the sound of Ki’u’s laughter.

It sounds pleased.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Long time no see, huh? I’d like to apologize for the update taking… so long. The previous notices mentioned that the hold-up was due to some rewriting that I undertook mid-editing and I… vastly underestimated just how difficult that rewrite would actually be for me. I had no idea what I was quite /trying/ to do, and the brain fog didn’t help much either.
> 
> That said, I’m fairly happy with the chapter now… it’s not quite what I envisioned, but I’m not mad about it, nor disappointed. I hope you’ve enjoyed it as well~ and thank you for reading! 
> 
> I’m just, not gonna schedule updates any more but, I have no intention of abandoning the fic—especially after I’ve already sunk so much time into it. I hope you’ll forgive me, it’s just the delay pushed me back so much I don’t want to burn out just trying to catch up ♥︎
> 
> [Twitter](https://twitter.com/syzygybbh) | [CuriousCat](https://t.co/KYC8gCVmPh?amp=1) !

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Remember, updates are on Monday every other week!
> 
> [Twitter](https://twitter.com/syzygybbh) | [CuriousCat](https://t.co/KYC8gCVmPh?amp=1) !
> 
> Want to see the story's moodboard, you can: https://pin.it/4gWNFuU !


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